


Creature Comfort

by Helenas_Mangos



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Comfort Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Deckerstar - Freeform, Early Feelings, Episode: s01e09 A Priest Walks Into A Bar, Episode: s01e10 Pops, Episode: s02e06 Monster, Episode: s02e13 A Good Day to Die (Lucifer TV), F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sharing a Bed, Smut, overuse of commas, starting sentences with conjunctions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 44,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28600095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helenas_Mangos/pseuds/Helenas_Mangos
Summary: Chloe comforts Lucifer after Father Frank’s death, and Lucifer returns the favor when Dan breaks up with her.And thus, prompts a chain of events where they use sex to comfort each other--and maybe develop feelings along the way.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 277
Kudos: 548





	1. A Priest Walks Into A Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! 
> 
> I've been reading some of the amazing fanfiction in the Lucifer fandom for the past few months after discovering the show during quarantine! This is my first time posting in this fandom.
> 
> I know this idea has been done to death, but anyway, here's my take on it.
> 
> It's been awhile since I've written fanfiction, so I'm feeling a bit rusty. Also, this is un-beta'd so I'm sure there are errors (feel free to point them out to me and I'll fix them). I'd appreciate any comments, feedback, and constructive criticism you have for me!
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Chloe and Dan sat in silence eating their dinner from Zhang Chow’s.

While this was supposed to be a new beginning for them, it was obvious that Chloe’s mind was elsewhere. Dan wouldn’t push, that she knew.

Because while the atmosphere should have been tinged with electricity and excitement from giving their relationship another go, Father Frank’s death had cast a somber shadow over the evening. And Dan had been distant anyway since their kiss.

She did her best to focus on the man next to her. Dan, her ex-husband, the father of her child. Dan, who was safe; familiar. Dan, who had really had her back lately as she continued to look into Palmetto.

And, he was _trying_.

For the last year of their marriage that was all she had wanted, him to try to put their family first. Now that he was, she should feel hopeful. After all, making their marriage work was what was best for Trixie, wasn’t it?

So why was Lucifer taking up so much space in her head?

Because while Dan was safe and familiar, Lucifer was unpredictable. Her relationship with Dan lacked passion, while passion was what fueled Lucifer. Everything Lucifer did oozed passion, including his interactions with her. It was thrilling.

But Lucifer was also somewhat unreliable—a playboy. And Chloe was a single mother who was just doing her best. It was hard, though, raising Trixie alone. Hard and lonely.

So, Chloe was lonely, Dan was _trying_ , and Lucifer was unreliable. She knew what to expect with Dan, and so she knew she’d choose him in the end—the safe, familiar option. Knowing that made it easier, somehow, to do what she was about to do.

Because the moment she made the decision to go to Lucifer, she knew exactly what would happen. Lucifer wasn’t great at communication, and he didn’t deal well with emotional exchanges, but sex was a language he was fluent in. Sex was how she’d reach him.

Knowing Dan was her endgame removed the fear she had of being rejected by Lucifer; of him losing interest in her once he finally got her into his bed while she knew she’d grow even more attached after being intimate; this fear that was the main reason she’d been holding back all this time.

Because while Lucifer was intriguing (and different, and exciting, and unpredictable), he was not _really_ an option for her. He didn’t do serious relationships, and she didn’t do casual ones; not when her choices impacted her daughter.

Yet there she was, having dinner with Dan while thinking about Lucifer. He’d somehow set up residence in her head (and maybe even a little in heart, too), and true to his stubborn nature, refused to be expelled.

Especially after today. She’d seen a different side of him with Father Frank—caring and less self-centered. He had seemed so carefree and wholesome when she had walked in on him and Frank playing the piano together.

And now he was alone and grieving. She’d been through grief, knew the sting of anger and the hopeless unfairness of it all, leaving you numb and aching at the same time.

She couldn’t erase from her memory the look on his face as he told her he was fine and then left her at the crime scene. So sad, so helpless, so defeated. So not like the Lucifer she had come to know and reluctantly care for.

The urge to be there for him, to comfort him, ended up being too strong for her to ignore. Dan knew (he must’ve) and let her leave without complaint.

On the drive to Lux, a nervous sort of anticipation had begun to twist in her belly and her fingers shook a little as she gripped the steering wheel. This wasn’t really something she did, casual sex with friends, but she wanted to offer him comfort in a way that would speak to him, even if it wasn’t the most psychologically healthy way to cope with loss.

And she couldn’t deny, even if it was just to herself, that she was excited by it; the idea of fucking him. That coil in her belly wasn’t just from nerves, and the proof was in the moisture that was pooling between her legs.

Because she was attracted to him, though she was somewhat loathe to admit it. She hated feeling like every other woman who fawned all over him. But with all his innuendos and bragging, of course she had thought about fucking him. Fantasized about it late at night alone in her bed.

Lucifer made her want to let loose, have fun, and throw caution to the wind. It was so unlike her disposition; she’d always had to be the grown-up, responsible because her mother was not. With Lucifer she could be silly and carefree—and even though she had done a bang up job resisting his advances thus far, he was _tempting_.

It wasn’t until she was in the elevator at Lux, riding up to his penthouse, that the thought occurred to her that he may already be seeking comfort in another warm body (or two or three). She had come to learn that sex seemed to be his response to everything, as a means of celebration, to resolve feelings of anger, or simply out of boredom. It seemed likely it would be his response to feelings of loss and sadness as well.

But as the elevator crept up closer to his dwelling, the soft notes of music from his piano caressed her ears, and she knew he was alone.

Lucifer didn’t move as the doors to the elevator opened and she crept up behind him, too engrossed in the music and his own thoughts to notice anything else.

“Hi,” she said softly, leaning over his shoulder to get his attention. He stopped playing as she took a seat next to him on the piano bench, surprise lighting his face.

He took her in, noticing the make-up that hadn’t been there earlier and that she had taken her hair down from its standard no-nonsense ponytail. He was always taken aback by how beautiful she looked with the golden waves of her hair loose around her shoulders and framing her face.

“Bit late for a new case, isn’t it?” he asked with a forced laugh, always putting on a show; playing a role. Heaven forbid he allow himself to be vulnerable with her.

The sadness was still there in his eyes, though, and she thought that maybe she could help him forget for a little while.

“I’m not here for a case,” she said softly, eyes meeting his meaningfully as she leaned her face in closer to his. “I’m here for you.”

“Oh, _really?_ ” His voice, soft as hers, took on a suggestive tone, and his eyes dipped down to her lips.

At this point in their partnership, the flirtations and suggestive comments were second-nature to him, something he did on habit, even though he knew they’d always be answered by her with a scoff and an annoyed eye roll. Tonight, his flirtation served as an attempt at normalcy and as a way to keep his emotions locked up, preventing her from seeing his vulnerability.

But, Chloe hummed quietly, her own eyes dipping to his lips as she leaned in closer to close the gap between them.

“Yeah,” she breathed out, her lips brushing his with the slightest of pressure, her breathing shaky as she pulled back just far enough to whisper, “I’m here for you, Lucifer. Tell me what you need.”

Her words obviously affected him and his Adam’s apple to bobbed in this throat as he swallowed.

Grasping the bench between them with her left hand to keep her steady, she reached across his body with her right hand and found his bicep.

His eyes, darkened with lust, but puzzled at the same time, regarded her as she squeezed his muscle and then traced her hand up across his shoulder to rest at the nape of his neck. He shivered, sucking in a stuttering breath as her nails lightly scratched through the short hairs at the base of his skull.

“I don’t—” he breathed out, confused, but not daring to move a muscle. He didn’t want her to stop even if he didn’t fully understand what was happening. He’d fully expected her to brush off his suggestive comment just as she always had.

Pulling Lucifer’s head closer to hers, Chloe pressed her mouth against his again, this time hot and insistent. His hands grasped for her waist, sliding her across the smooth piano bench until their thighs were pressed together.

The noise he made when her tongue slid against his had her blood turning to magma, pulsing in incessant waves straight to her core.

Lucifer pulled away from her mouth, his dark eyes opening to meet hers for a split second while his hand gently brushed her hair away from her neck. Then his mouth was on her, exploring the long column of her throat.

Nipping and kissing and sucking his way up, her head rolled back and to the side to give him better access, until he reached her ear. His hot breath on the sensitive skin of her ear made her shudder, and she clenched her thighs together as unrelenting heat built up between them as he bit down softly on her lobe.

His mouth on her skin and his hands on her body felt so good—better than she had imagined. The look in his lustful gaze as he took her in made her insides clench in anticipation for what was coming.

Passionate, indeed.

She had to remind herself that this wasn’t about her. She was here for him.

“Is this what you need?” she whispered, locking her eyes with his.

Her hand slipped from his neck and trailed a path down the hard muscles of his chest and stomach until she reached the crotch of his pants.

She pressed against him firmly, feeling him hardening against her palm. She kept her eyes on his as she cupped her fingers around him through his pants, squeezing him softly.

Lucifer didn’t know what to say; so used to fulfilling the needs of others’; their wants and desires. No one had ever done this for him; no one had asked about his needs or wants.

He let out a moan as she tightened her grip around him, thrusting his hips a little as she stroked him through the thin layer of his slacks. Her grip on him felt amazing, better somehow than every other person who had pleasured him in this way—and he was still clothed.

Simply knowing it was Chloe, _the_ Detective, who was touching him somehow made it all the more pleasurable, all the more erotic, even with a layer of fabric in between. His mind instantly conjured up images of skin-to-skin contact, her thin, elegant fingers wrapping tightly around his throbbing cock, her plush lips closing around the tip. _Oh, how many times had he fantasized about this very moment?_

Except in his fantasies, it was all about _her._

She pressed, “Tell me. What do you need, Lucifer?”

And the way she said his name had arousal pulsing through his veins on a hasty path to where she had him cupped in her hand. She felt him twitch against her palm, growing more erect, and she gave another squeeze in response.

His eyes dipped down to her full pink lips, swollen from his earlier kisses.

“Your mouth,” Lucifer’s voice was husky and somewhat shaky as he made his request and watched as her eyes seemed to darken further. He’d never seen her with pupils this blown before—she looked other-worldly; too beautiful for this plane of existence. To think, _he_ was the cause of her arousal.

Chloe hummed in agreement, licking her lips in anticipation. She dove in, pressing another passionate kiss to his mouth, stroking his tongue with hers and then pulling his lower lip between her teeth to bite it.

She felt wanton, out of control, and they had only just begun.

While they shared hot, wet kisses, her shaky fingers undid the buttons of his shirt one by one until she was able to push it over his shoulders where it fell carelessly to the floor.

Pulling away from his mouth, she offered him a smile, and biting down on her own lip, allowed her eyes to wander the newly exposed planes of his chest.

Her fingers traced patterns over his heated skin, exploring the raises and dips of his pecs and abs. The man was sin personified, and she felt herself grow wetter as she explored him.

She grazed one of his nipples with her thumb, and his sharp intake of breath made her do it again. All the while he watched her with impossibly dark, half-hooded eyes.

When her hands made it back to his crotch, his erection was straining against the front of his trousers. She hastily unbuttoned and unzipped them, freeing him from the restraint—of course Lucifer wouldn’t be wearing underwear—then moved to his waistband to urge his slacks down over his hips.

Gripping the back of the bench on either side of himself, Lucifer lifted his hips so that she could pull the garment down his legs. He quickly kicked them and his shoes off, leaving him fully exposed.

Chloe kissed her way across his chest, licking at one of his nipples, remembering the sound he’d made when she’d touched it with her fingers moments before.

“Detective,” he moaned as his grip turned white-knuckled on the piano bench.

He watched as she slid down his body. Pressing his heels into the marble floor, he pushed the bench backward to give her more room.

The abrupt noise of the bench scraping across the hard floor made Chloe jump, and she met his eyes as she huffed out a little laugh at her jumpiness.

His replying smile eased some of the tension she was feeling and reminded her that it was just them, the detective and her partner, self-proclaimed devil who made her laugh like no one else.

Chloe wanted this, to be the one who comforted Lucifer when he was sad or hurting. In whatever way he needed her.

As she settled herself between his legs, he spread them wide to give her room. His hands still gripped the bench on either side of himself, and she had to take a second to appreciate the sight he made.

His long legs spread to either side of her; his cock, long and hard for _her_ , perfectly shaped, and erect against his smooth, toned abs; his well-defined pecs and broad shoulders, heaving from her attentions; his biceps, strained and prominent from his tightened grip on the bench, supporting his slightly reclined torso.

Unbidden, an image of those pure white wings from the auction popped into her mind, and she couldn’t help but imagine them there, growing up and outward from his shoulder blades, the long, bottom feathers draping across the smooth marble floors behind him. Majestic and glowing softly—somehow looking _so_ right on him.

The imaginary picture nearly stole her breath as her eyes finished their exploration of his body, landing on his face. His head titled back, but his dark eyes, half-lidded, watched her. Her eyes traced the impeccably trimmed stubble on his cheeks; the curve of his long, Patrician nose; his dark hair, which was usually perfectly styled, but was beginning to come undone now and curling in places along his hairline.

He was beautiful.

“Please,” he breathed out, and she knew she had teased him, unintentionally so as she made him wait while her eyes feasted on the sight he made.

Chloe’s hand gripped the base of his cock, and he twitched at the sudden contact. Leaning forward, eyes never leaving his, she pressed the flat of her tongue against him and licked slowly upward along the underside of his rock hard member, all the way up to the tip where she swirled her tongue around him, tasting the salty fluid leaking from him there, then taking him into her mouth.

The sounds Lucifer made as she worked herself up and down his shaft were sinful, heating her through and through. The magma in her veins continued to flow unrelenting in one direction, to the place between her legs that was pulsing with her own need and desire.

On her knees as she was, she pressed the heel of her foot between her legs and grinded against herself, searching for friction, and moaning around him when she found it.

She watched him while she pleasured him, fueled by each sound he made, the way the bridge of his nose scrunched up when she did something he particularly liked, the way that even though he was trying so hard to control himself, his hips gave little thrusts up into her mouth.

She wanted him to touch her, wanted his hands on her, but Lucifer remained resolute in his grip on the bench.

As his moans got louder, Chloe grasped one of his forearms and tugged at him until he loosened his grip and allowed her to place his hand on her head.

Cupping her cheek, Lucifer’s thumb caressed the soft skin under her eye.

Their dark gazes held as she swirled her tongue around him again and his fingers wove into her hair, pulling the strands away from her face and holding them loosely behind her head, giving him a better view of her face as she went down on him.

She took him deep and hollowed her cheeks as she sucked on him and he was _so_ close.

And while it felt amazingly good, he suddenly needed more.

Because all of a sudden, thoughts about the unfairness of Father Frank’s death flooded into his mind. He hadn’t deserved to die. If someone as faithful, and devout, and undeserving of death as Father Frank could die, then the Detective could die, too. _Would die, too, someday_. And what would he do when he lost her?

Loosening his fingers from her hair, he grasped her upper arm and tugged. She released him, leaving his cock wet and glistening, and stared up at him questioningly.

“I need—” he didn’t know how to voice that he needed her close, needed to feel the warmth of her skin against his, to feel her muscles clench around him as he pulsed inside her, to feel connected to her as a way to remind himself that she was here; that she was alive.

Somehow, Chloe knew what he needed, because she needed it also.

Nodding, she kissed the tip of his cock one last time and then stood, shucking her pants and underwear and kicking them to join his somewhere under the piano. She climbed onto the piano bench, straddling him with her knees on either side of his thighs. His fingers grasped the hem of her shirt and tugged it up and over her head.

As Lucifer moved to unclasp her bra, Chloe couldn’t wait any longer, the throbbing between her legs so insistent, and so she sank down on him.

Lucifer abandoned his task of removing her bra and wrapped his hands around her ribcage, focusing instead on how amazing she felt as she sank down on his throbbing member.

Like a mirror image, both of their heads rolled back in pleasure until he was buried to the hilt inside of her.

Lucifer held her there for a moment, reveling in the sensations accosting him: the feel of her skin on his; the scent of her sweat, her arousal, her soap and shampoo all mingling together to create a scent so pleasant, so uniquely Chloe; the sight of her, in the throes of pleasure on top of _him_ —her cheeks flushed pink, her chest heaving; the sounds of her panting, the pleasurable noises she made as he shifted his hips underneath her.

He brought his head forward and licked a strip up the valley of her breasts, tasting her saltiness; needing to have her overwhelming every single one of his senses, taste included.

As she started to move, lifting herself up and then rolling her hips as she sank back down on him, he felt an overpowering feeling of comfort.

Chloe set her pace, starting slow and moaning each time she sunk down on him. Her fingers threaded into his hair, grasping and pulling at the strands as she pressed her forehead to his.

Their eyes locked, and he felt his heart expand in his chest as he gazed at her, in awe of her beauty, her cleverness, her kindness. For some reason he couldn’t understand, she was there with him.

Lucifer pressed a soft kiss to her lips, surprising himself at the tenderness of the action. She returned the kiss, just as tender.

His fingers caressed up the smooth skin of her sides and back down again, and she tingled under his touch, her sensory neurons firing excitatory pulses to her brain.

As his fingers skimmed back up, he unhooked her bra, peeling it from her, making her loosen her grip in his hair so he could remove it from her fully.

They broke apart, mouths remaining close enough to feel each other’s breaths as they exhaled puffs of air.

Lucifer’s hands settled at the small of her back, pulling her toward him, causing her to arch her back and press her torso to his. Her arms wrapped tight around his neck, keeping them in contact, as she continued to ride him, only now he felt her body slide against his with each movement.

“You feel _incredible._ ” His deep voice rumbled in her ear, and that combined with his hands smoothing down her hips and over her ass made her shudder and moan wantonly.

Chloe’s muscles were starting to tire, her movements becoming less rhythmic and more erratic, so when she lifted herself so that just the tip of his cock was still inside her, he grasped her hip with one hand and held her there, preventing her from sinking down again.

He used his other hand to support him on the bench, and then dug his heels into the floor to give him the leverage needed to thrust up into her.

Her back arched, body freezing and pulling taut like a bowstring as he pounded up into her, seeking both of their releases. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she held herself up, moan after moan escaping her lips as each thrust hit at just the right angle at just the right spot inside her.

Lucifer used the hand at her hip to pull her down to meet him thrust for thrust, until she was spiraling, clenching around him as she came with his name on her lips.

He followed shortly after, the sight of her coming as she moaned his name proving to be his undoing.

They rode the waves of their pleasure with a few soft thrusts, until they both stilled, Chloe bonelessly draped over him and panting softly in his ear.

He rubbed her back as she calmed, tracing the bumps of her vertebrae as feelings of peace and content overwhelmed him. Lucifer didn’t know what this meant for them, but he liked it, being here with her in this way—he liked it in a different way than he liked having sex with other people.

He didn’t know why she was different; he’d puzzle about it later. But Dr. Linda had asked if the Detective was his friend. Maybe she was and maybe that’s why sex felt different with her; _better_ somehow.

Chloe kissed his shoulder and then climbed off him.

He didn’t know what she’d do now; and he watched her as she began gathering her clothes. When she looked at him, her cheeks were pink. He didn’t want her to rush out in a fit of embarrassment, but he didn’t know how to make her stay.

“I think Father Frank could have been a friend,” he blurted, surprising himself.

She paused, glad for something to focus on that wasn’t confusion or embarrassment over what had just happened between them. She’d expected sex with him to be good, but detached. Instead, it had been intimate and fulfilling. She felt closer to him than she ever had, and that scared her a little.

Because _Dan_ was her endgame, and Lucifer was not even an option.

She tossed him his slacks, and then pulled her own pants on.

“You had a lot in common, huh?” she said softly, surprised that he was opening up to her, and she had an irrational notion that speaking too loudly might cause him to close up again.

Nodding as he dressed himself, he replied, “I was surprised. I didn’t think it possible.”

Once Chloe was dressed, she joined him again at the piano. “He was a good man, and so are you, Lucifer.”

He scoffed. “He was a much better man than I’ll ever be. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

“No, he didn’t,” Chloe agreed, placing her hand on his.

He didn’t voice his fears that one day she would die just like Father Frank; that one day he’d lose her too. He kept that to himself.

After a moment of companionable silence, he nodded to the piano keys, “Do you play?”


	2. Pops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer returns the favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who read, left kudos, bookmarked, or commented on the first chapter of this fic! You have no idea how much I appreciated it!
> 
> I hope you enjoy the second chapter; I had a lot of fun writing it!

Lucifer found ways to tease her about it—of course he did—referring to their hook up in countless innuendos and flirtations at the most inappropriate times. Luckily, her coworkers were used to his suggestive quips and delusional tirades, so no one really batted an eye.

Still, he brought it up every chance he got, which made Chloe all the more adamant that it would _never_ happen again.

So, when it did happen again, she should have been surprised.

_Should have been._ But, she wasn’t.

He had been on her last nerve all day.

First, by sucking up to her mom when she showed up announced at their crime scene that morning. ( _That’s right, her_ mother _was in town—don’t even get her started._ )

Then he brought Junior—a suspect in a _poisoning_ case—not just _to_ family dinner, but to _cook_ family dinner.

And what a shit-show family dinner turned out to be.

He made things worse with her mom, divulging that Chloe mentioned wanting to kill her and had called her a child.

And then!

He announced to everyone that they’d had sex.

Just thinking about it made Chloe shake with anger.

_“Ohhhh, you’re kissing now. Is that why you won’t have sex with me again?”_ he had said in that annoyingly suggestive tone of his.

She tried to tell Dan that it was a one-time thing; that it had meant nothing (maybe even tried to convince herself of that as well), but Dan stormed out, not wanting to hear it.

She sent him a text later, after she and Lucifer had solved the case, telling him that she was ready to make their relationship official—to give them a real shot.

Which was how she wound up at present riding the elevator up to Lucifer’s penthouse, sloshed out of her mind, because Dan had broken up with her. _In a text_.

Chloe didn’t get it. She thought they both wanted to make it work; she thought Dan had been _trying_. But the truth was, he’d been distant for weeks now—same old, same old. She shouldn’t have been surprised.

Dan had always made her feel unworthy.

And Lucifer was _so_ selfish, and annoying, and frustrating, and self-absorbed—but, he saved her from the fire at Sol de Javier. He _liked_ working with her; trusted her instincts, praised her cleverness, followed her lead (well, most of the time). He flirted with her, and made her laugh, and when they were in the same room, he gave her his complete attention.

Lucifer made her feel special.

And after the way Dan had ended things with her, she really needed to feel that way—special, desired, wanted. She knew Lucifer could make her feel those things; that Lucifer _would_ make her feel those things.

The elevator doors opened with a chime, and Chloe leaned against them, doing her absolute best to look sultry in her drunken haze.

“Detective!” Lucifer exclaimed, unable to hide his surprise and delight at seeing her there, just on his way out. “This is unexpected?”

“You said the door’s always open, and I’m walking through it,” she said confidently, striding in and past him on her way to his well-stocked personal bar.

As she grabbed a bottle and poured herself a generous portion, he continued, “Right, well, I was just on my way out to meet the Brittanys, but…” he reconsidered, “I suppose they can occupy each other.” It wasn’t every day that the Detective showed up unannounced to his place… _and was she drunk?_

“Great!” she exclaimed, completely uncaring of the fact that she had commandeered his plans for the evening, “Then have a seat.”

He took a step closer, a little concerned by how out of character she was acting. He squinted at her and said, “Yes. Has something happened—I’m guessing by the looks of it—with Dan perhaps?”

Chloe took a gulp of the whisky she had poured herself. “Mmm. You mean Detective Douche?” she said with bite, her resentment toward him obvious.

Lucifer laughed, “Yes, well, of course that’s what _I_ mean, but the bigger question here is: why do _you_ mean that?”

Before he’d even finished speaking, she’d already plowed on, “We weren’t even back together, and he ended it with me tonight. With a text. I mean, what are we, in high school?”

“Well, we’re certainly drinking like we are,” he quipped, taking in her drooping eyelids, uncoordinated movements, and the slight slur to her words. “Why don’t you have a seat over here and tell me all about it, hmm?”

Taking her hand in one of his and wrapping his other around her waist to keep her steady, he pulled her away from the bar and over to his sofa.

“I just feel like an idiot,” she continued. “I can’t believe that I would let myself care for him again. I mean, why?! So I get hurt?”

“No,” he said, helping her sit and then sitting beside her, keeping one hand comfortingly resting on her forearm. “Because you’re a kind person who puts the needs of others before your own. It’s a horrible irony that my father invented.”

Chloe tilted her head as she drunkenly pondered, “But you don’t do that. You just take what you want.”

His eyes darkened as he gazed at her. Even as drunk as she was, she was still gorgeous. “Since the beginning of time,” he confirmed.

“That’s nice,” she said, smiling crookedly at him. She wanted him to want her; to take her.

Lucifer chuckled at her, allowing himself to find tipsy Chloe endearing now that his worry had ebbed, and she chuckled back, holding eye contact with him. Then, she leaned in, tilting her face up toward him, to kiss him.

The gap between them seemed to widen as she pushed forward, pressing her nose to his. But, his lips evaded her, remaining just out of reach.

“Uhh,” he stuttered awkwardly when she was nearly on top of him. His finger popping up in a hold-on-a-second gesture. As much as he had been fantasizing about sex with her again, he knew she was too drunk and would probably regret it in the morning. He was fairly sure she had only meant it to be a one-time-thing.

“What’s happening?” she asked, confused. Mortification crept into her cheeks in the form of a splotchy red blush. _Lucifer_ of all people was refusing to sleep with her?

He kept his head pulled away from hers as if she would pounce at any moment.

“It would seem that I’m saying no,” he said as gently as possible.

“But why?” she pressed.

“Well, quite frankly Detective, you’re bloody plastered,” he said with a playful laugh as he sat up, pushing her gently along with him.

“But, we’ve already had sex.” She’s confused, trying to understand why _Lucifer_ , king of all things carnal, would turn her down cold. “Did you not like it? Was it not good?”

Because _she_ couldn’t stop thinking about it; about _him_.

With dark eyes refusing to break eye contact, Lucifer replied in an impossibly husky voice, “Quite the contrary—I enjoyed it tremendously. I would desire nothing more than to have another go at it when you’re sober. If that is what you desire?”

His question sounded unsure and hesitant, so unlike his usual confident self.

“I do desire it, but I desire it now,” Chloe insisted without hesitation. After all, that was the reason she was here. To be with him. To feel desired.

Finally releasing her from the intense eye contact, Lucifer turned away. “You say that now, Detective” he said, “but what will you think in the morning?”

Her title seemed to sober her up a bit, bringing her back to herself. “You’re right.” She breathed out a long sigh. “What am I doing? Why am I here drunk, throwing myself at you? This is _so_ sad.”

She buried her face in her hands. This was not how she had envisioned the night going.

He attempted to relieve her embarrassment by joking, “Well, it happens to the best, I promise.”

“But not to me. I don’t do this,” she insisted with a self-deprecating laugh. Then she realized, “This is something…my mom would do.”

She huffed out a sad little resigned sigh, and Lucifer frowned in sympathy. Her mother’s unexpected presence that day had really shaken her up.

“Come here,” he said, scooting closer to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest, giving her a comforting squeeze. “We don’t all turn into our parents, Detective,” he reassured. “I mean look at me,” he continued, laughing, “I don’t think I’ve ever been the son that He wants me to be. I uh—”

Her snore cut him off.

**. . .**

The first thing she became aware of as she drifted in consciousness was the stale taste of alcohol in her dry, dry mouth. She wet her tongue and worked it between her teeth and her upper lip, where the dryness had suctioned them together.

_This_ was why she rarely drank.

She groaned and rolled onto her side, the silky-smooth sheets slipping effortlessly against her bare skin.

Her eyes abruptly popped open, only to squeeze tightly shut against the bright morning sunlight. _Bare skin?! Silk sheets?!_

Her head pounded, but she forced her eyes open again, slower this time. Immediately, she recognized the Assyrian walls and black silk sheets of Lucifer’s bedroom. Her bra hung limply from the bedside lamp, and she plucked it off and let it fall to the floor.

She was naked. She braced herself, then lifted the covers off her chest and peered underneath—yep, definitely naked.

_What happened last night_?

Had they slept together again? If they had, then why couldn’t she remember it?

She remembered Dan breaking up with her, drinking nearly an entire bottle of wine by herself, and then drunkenly deciding it would be a good idea to go to Lucifer’s to seduce him.

But she couldn’t remember anything after that.

She groaned again, pulling the sheets up over her head.

Lucifer cleared his throat from across the room. “You’re awake,” he stated, sounding almost smug. At the sound of his voice, she pulled the covers back down off her face and sat up, clutching the sheets modestly against her chest. “Triple espresso or hair of the dog?” He asked, and when she didn’t reply, concluded, “both?”

“Um, did we….?” She looked down again to her naked body.

Lucifer scoffed, meeting her eyes. “Did we ever!” he exclaimed, getting up and walking towards the bed. “And I’m pretty sure this time we made Rosemary’s baby.”

Her eyebrows scrunched together as she tried her best to remember. “Oh, Detective, it was extraordinary,” he continued, kneeling on the bed by her feet. “The heat, the gymnastics.”

He crawled closer towards her, and she scrambled away from him, wrapping herself in the sheets and climbing out of his bed. He laughed flirtatiously. “I mean, you had moves that made even the Devil blush.”

She backed away from him, embarrassed that he was privy to intimate knowledge about her that she was not. Why couldn’t she remember? Surely she hadn’t been drunk enough to black out during sex?

“Really? This is bad,” she said, sounding slightly panicked. He sipped from his espresso, entertained by her little freak out. “I don’t remember any of that.”

“What, you don’t remember that we _didn’t_ do the nasty?” he said teasingly, finally assuaging her worry.

Her eyes met his. “We didn’t?”

“Nope!” he exclaimed jovially, even popping the ‘p’, and then, sounding so proud of himself, announced, “I turned you down cold.”

“You turned me down?” she repeated, shocked. “Even after you pestered me all week about wanting a repeat performance?”

Why did that hurt? She should be feeling relieved that he hadn’t taken advantage when she was clearly in a vulnerable place, but instead she just felt rejected. Rejected and desperate and embarrassed for even going to him in the first place.

Because she knew he had sex with drunk women all the time, so why did he suddenly develop a conscious about it when it came to her?

She’d wanted Lucifer to make her feel special, but instead she’d ended up rejected twice in the same night. It hurt. It made her feel every bit the aging, undesirable, single-mother she was worried she was becoming.

“Wait!” she suddenly exclaimed, something not adding up. “If we didn’t have sex, then why am I naked?”

Lucifer laughed, clearly amused. “What, you mean you don’t remember the part where you passed out, woke up again, shouted at me, ‘It’s too hot in this five-star hellhole,’ I believe it was, then tore your clothes off and proceeded to hog the bed?”

“I do that. Sometimes. When I’m upset. And you’d be upset too if your ex dumped you by text.” _And if your partner rejected your sexual advances_ , she doesn’t say.

“No, I’d be relieved if Dan dumped me,” Lucifer insisted with a smirk.

“If I hogged the bed, where did you sleep?” she asked.

“I got a few hours on the couch,” he said unbothered, “and then I came in here and watched you sleep for a while. You snore by the way. Like an Albanian field wench.”

Her eyebrows scrunched disbelievingly over her nose. “You watched me sleep?” It was her turn to poke fun at him, “Wow, because that's not at all creepy.”

He huffed, offended, and insisted, “It is not.”

Chloe just smiled and shook her head at him and asked, “Hey, do you have a spare toothbrush I can use?” She had to wash that stale taste of alcohol away.

“Of course,” he said, gesturing to his ensuite. “In the bathroom, under the sink. Help yourself to whatever you’d like.”

First grabbing her shirt off his piano, she entered, sheets and all, into his bathroom.

She emerged moments later, clad in her shirt (which was long enough to be a dress) with the sheets balled in her arms, feeling almost one-hundred percent back to herself. She had washed her face, brushed her teeth, and used some body lotion she had found. After finger-combing the tangles out of her hair, she looked like her usual self.

Only she still felt off.

Lucifer was once again seated on one of the chairs facing his bed, his luxurious silk robe parted slightly over his chest, still sipping his drink.

She dropped the heap of sheets on his bed and cleared her throat, slowly turning to look at him. “I’m sorry about last night—”

Lucifer cut her off with a wave of his hand, “No apologies necessary, Detective.”

“No, but, I’m sure you had other plans and instead got stuck dealing with drunk me.”

“Who is a delight, I assure you.”

“It’s just that,” she continued, fidgeting with her hands as she took a step towards him. She really wanted to talk about what had happened with Dan; how it had made her feel to be so carelessly discarded by someone who was supposed to care about her and put her first, “Dan breaking up with me like that, over text like we were nothing, it really made me feel bad. It made me feel unworthy, I guess. Of him, of his time and effort.” She swallowed, averting her eyes, “and, it made me feel like I’m undesirable.”

“Detect—” Lucifer tried to interject.

Chloe stopped him by saying, “Please, let me finish. I came here last night _wanting_ you to sleep with me, because I knew you’d make those feelings go away. Because I knew you’d make me feel special, and desirable, and wanted.”

Lucifer stood abruptly, his demitasse cup clattering noisily where he carelessly let it drop onto the table. He was in front of her in two long strides, his left hand going to her waist while his right hand cupped her chin, making her eyes meet his.

His eyes were dark, his voice deep and raspy when he said, “I can do that for you now,” and her stomach twisted as frissons of excitement surged there and lower, settling into a familiar warmth between her legs.

Her breathing hitched as his fingers caressed the apple of her cheek, ever so lightly brushing wisps of hair out of her face and behind her ear. He traced along the curve of cartilage that made up the shell of her ear, down her earlobe, and along the sharp line of her jaw.

“You took care of me last week, Detective, let me return the favor,” he breathed out, grasping her chin between his thumb and index finger, and tilting her face up to his.

“Lucifer,” she said softly, “I didn’t do that as a favor; you don’t owe me anything—I wanted to do that for you.”

His face drew impossibly closer. “And I want to do this for you.”

The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips in anticipation of his kiss.

With the hand at her waist, he tugged her closer so that her body was flush against his. “You say you feel undesirable?” he asked softly, pressing himself into her. “Can you feel how much _I_ desire you?”

She could.

The feel of him already hard and pressed against her stomach made her gasp. Arousal grew steadily between her legs as he pumped his hips softly against her stomach, moaning unabashedly into the small space of air between their lips.

“Tell me, what is it you desire?” he asked, using his customary line, but it sounded different directed at her, softer.

Her eyes, dark as his now, darted down to his perfect lips. She tipped her face up, brushing the tip of his nose with hers. “You,” she breathed out, and then closed the gap between them.

His lips were soft and pliant against hers, which were slightly chapped from dehydration. His fingers trailed down her neck, brushing over the hollow of her collarbone, and lower to the top button of her shirt.

Moaning as his tongue licked into her mouth, her fingers slid into his hair and curled, tugging the short strands and bringing their bodies even closer together.

The sting of pain shifted into pleasure and spurred him on. He abandoned the buttons on her shirt, running his hands from the small of her back down over the swell of her ass to the backs of her thighs, and in a show of strength, lifted her up.

She immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, and his hands returned to support her lower back.

As he carried her the short distance to his bed, Chloe finally broke away from his lips, panting. She nipped his lower lip playfully, tugging it into her mouth and sucking.

Lucifer moaned into her mouth, and she loved how vocal he was; how responsive he was to her—already, she felt more desirable than she had during the last few years with Dan. Lucifer made her feel that way.

She kissed him again, softer this time, as he lowered her onto his bed. With one arm, he swept the ball of sheets onto the floor, making room for them.

She kept her legs locked around his hips for a moment longer, keeping him close to her as she took her time savoring their kiss. Her fingernails scraped lightly at his stubble while her other hand held his chin and tipped his face to deepen their kiss.

While using one arm to hold himself up, his other hand mapped her body over the soft flannel of her shirt, cupping her breasts and thumbing over peaked nipples, then down lower over her toned stomach muscles and into the dip of her bellybutton, and lower still to where the hem of her shirt rode up against her upper thighs.

He slipped his hand underneath the fabric, feeling the smooth warm skin against his palm. Goosebumps rose across the flesh he caressed on her upper thighs, hips, and lower stomach, purposefully avoiding, for now, the spot she craved his touch the most.

“Lucifer,” she breathed against his lips as his fingers traced the crease where her thigh met her torso.

He kissed and licked pathways down her neck, pausing to nibble at the spot where her pulse thumped rapidly underneath the skin, and across the exposed triangle of flesh at the top of her chest. His fingers returned to their earlier task of unbuttoning the shirt, and with each newly exposed patch of skin, his lips and tongue explored her further.

After undoing the final button, he sat back on his knees between her spread legs and gazed down at her, pupils blown black and large.

Oh, how he could not wait to worship her.

Pressing his palms to her ribcage, his hands moved down and to the side, bringing the flannel shirt with them, exposing her to him.

He’d seen her naked before, twice now (well, two-and-a-half times if you count her naked-from-the-waist-up scene from _Hot Tub High School_ ), but each time too brief to fully appreciate her beauty. Even when they’d fucked last week, she had only been naked for the last part of it, and he’d been holding her so close to him that he really hadn’t gotten a good look at her.

She peered up at him, watching his reaction with hooded eyes, and fighting the urge to cover herself up.

For the most part, she was proud of her body—police training kept her fit; but doubt and insecurity had begun to creep into her mind lately, especially in the last twenty-four hours with her mom’s backward comments about how she wasn’t getting any younger, and then being dumped by Dan. She’d been married to Dan for so long; the separation so fresh, she didn’t know if men would still find her attractive.

After all, she _wasn’t_ getting any younger. She had stretch marks, which she didn’t mind all that much because they reminded her of carrying Trixie, her breasts weren’t as perky as they once had been, and her skin was starting to lose its elasticity—all typical signs of aging.

But Lucifer reacted exactly as she knew he would, with reverence in his gaze. He wanted _her_ despite having much younger and prettier women and men lining up to be with him. 

If his shaky sigh was any indication, Lucifer was clearly affected by the sight of her sprawled naked before him.

He was tempted to hide his emotions behind a quip or lascivious comment about her body, but this was about her, and her need to feel desirable. So he fought against his self-preservation instinct in order to give her what she desired—even if that meant being somewhat more vulnerable with her.

“You’re stunning,” he whispered, voice rough, and he had to avert his gaze from hers because it was too much. Luckily, he had the expanse of her nude form to distract him.

His fingers traced her collarbone, the curve of which he was already becoming familiar, then down her sternum and the valley between her breasts.

Tracing over a nipple, his eyes returned to hers to watch her reaction as the small rose-colored bud hardened under his touch. She gasped, and he smiled, satisfied, and then pinched and rolled it in between his fingers.

She moaned a sound that resembled part of his name, her back arching to lift her chest up off the bed and closer to him.

“Oh, Detective, you are exquisite,” Lucifer said, awe lacing his tone. “I’m only going to bring him up once because I don’t want either of us thinking about him while I’m fucking you silly, but Dan is truly an idiotic dullard for giving you up.” He made sure she was looking into his eyes as he finished, “And you know I don’t lie.”

Chloe pushed herself up then, hands reaching for the knot of his robe.

“Take this off,” she said breathily.

“With pleasure,” he replied, allowing her fingers to loosen the knot and then slide the silk fabric off his shoulders. He returned the favor, peeling the open flannel shirt from her arms and flinging it behind him to land somewhere with his discarded robe.

He kissed her, his tongue sinking into her mouth as his fingers sank into her hair, weaving into the strands to cup the curve of her skull and hold her to him. This kiss was insistent and intense, filled with passion.

He lowered her, one of his hands still cupping the back of her head as she came to rest on the soft mattress.

His lips were unrelenting against hers, sucking first her top and then her bottom lip in between his and nipping them each lightly with his teeth. Her lips were full and soft and swollen as he ravished them.

She was moaning, her hands moving over the expanse of his lower back, careful to avoid the large rough scars over his shoulder blades, remembering his reaction the last time she had tried to touch them, and digging into the firm flesh of his ass.

“Scoot back,” he rumbled against her lips, using his hands on her hips to urge her up toward the pillows at the head of his bed.

She hummed content as she settled and he pressed another brief kiss to her lips unable to help himself. Then, he began his trail downward, kissing along her jaw and neck, her chest, the swell of each breast, pausing to taste each nipple, and down the softly defined lines of her abs.

The stubble on his cheeks and chin scratched her sensitive skin as he explored her body, causing her nerve endings to fire relentlessly under his ministrations.

Until finally he reached his destination.

The lips between her thighs were pink and swollen, glistening with her arousal. His hot breath made her clit jump in anticipation, her inner muscles clenching around nothing.

“Please,” she whimpered, watching him stare at her like she was the only thing he had ever desired, and he was about to have her. She couldn’t take anymore foreplay, anymore teasing. She needed him now.

He didn’t disappoint, a mere second later licking up the seam of her with the flat of his tongue. When he reached her clit, he swirled his tongue around it, leaving her arching her back and keening for him.

“You taste heavenly,” he praised, not knowing exactly why he used that adjective, only that it seemed the most apt descriptor.

Her fingers immediately wound into his hair, pushing his face back into her pussy.

Lucifer went willingly, wrapping his arms around her thighs and bringing her legs over his shoulders, tugging her closer to him.

He experimented only a little, quickly finding a rhythm she liked that had her writhing on the sheets and pulling at his hair. His thumb rubbed circles on her clit while he lapped at her wet folds, swirling his tongue with each pass around her sensitive hole.

“Oh Go—Gahhh—Lucifer!” she moaned as he worked her up, somehow finding a moment of clarity to remember how annoyed he had been the previous day at Naomi’s apartment, when he had heard lovers in the apartment next door exclaiming “Oh, God,” as they fucked.

And he rewarded her thoughtfulness by redoubling his efforts, sliding two fingers inside her and curling them against her g-spot, massaging the rough flesh there, while sucking firmly on her clit.

Chloe came in a cacophony of moans and nonsense syllables, her hips bucking up into his face as he continued to lick her through her orgasm, pulse after pulse constricting his fingers as he pumped them slowly in and out of her until she settled, sprawled and spent on his silk sheets.

She wasn’t used to oral sex being _that_ good, let alone bringing her to climax. Her previous lovers would sometimes spend time down there, licking and sucking, but usually missing the spots that felt the best, and then either giving up or moving on long before she reached ecstacy.

But obviously not Lucifer.

He sucked his sticky fingers into his mouth while she watched him through heavy-lidded eyes, feeling a new wave of heat already pooling between her thighs at the sight of him enjoying the taste of her, his dick, long and thick and _so_ hard glistening in the early morning light with pre-cum.

“Come here,” she said, voice raspy, as she reached for him.

He went easily, his body pressing against the length of hers, both enjoying the feel of being skin to skin.

Lifting her head, she connected their lips, tasting herself as she licked into his mouth. She hummed pleasantly into the kiss, enjoying the sensation of being so close to him and the feeling of his hard cock pressing into her thigh, where he was thrusting softly against her.

Chloe took him in hand and he lifted himself away from her so that she could position him at her opening.

Their eyes locked as Lucifer pushed inside of her with one long, smooth stroke of his hips.

“Ahh,” she breathed against his lips, pecking at them, as he pulled out and thrust back in again, slow and deep.

“Like this?” he asked in a whisper against her mouth.

“Mmmm, yeah,” she breathed, “just like this.”

She wrapped her legs around his lower back as he continued to rock into her with long, deep movements, until that wasn’t enough anymore, and he picked up his pace.

He pushed himself up, fully extending his arms so that he held his chest away from hers, giving him the leverage he needed to snap his hips into her at the pace he wanted.

Her hips met his thrust for thrust, while her hands caressed his strong arms as he held himself above her.

His thrusts became more erratic as he neared his climax, so she reached between her legs and rubbed circles in her clit, quickly bringing herself over the edge for the second time that morning.

She cried his name as she came, her back arching off the bed as she held tight onto his forearm to keep her grounded. He followed shortly behind her, watching her come with his name on her lips as her inner muscles fluttered and clenched around him all it took to nudge him over the edge.

He collapsed beside her, and they breathed in unison, calming themselves.

Sensing that Chloe had turned her head towards him, Lucifer turned to face her. Their eyes met, and she couldn’t help the large, goofy smile that crept across her face as she gazed at him. He returned the smile with one of his own, and she laughed, a giddy, joyful sound that breathed life into his minimalistic, but chic, apartment.

“I hate to stroke your ego, but _damn_ ,” she complimented through the wide smile she was still unable to wipe from her face.

“My ego’s not the only thing you could stroke,” he suggested, waggling his eyebrows at her.

She smacked his chest lightly with the back of her hand, but chuckled at him all the same.

“Best you’ve ever had?” he asked, his own smile mirroring hers.

Normally she’d roll her eyes, but he had done exactly what she’d wanted of him—he had made her feel special and desired. So, she admitted, “Damn near close to it,” even though in her head she tried and failed to remember a time that was better than what she’d just experienced.

Lucifer’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Well then, we’ll need to remedy that, won’t we?” he said, as he rolled his body on top of her. She was surprised to feel his cock half-hard again; he really wasn’t lying about his stamina.

She let him kiss her again, the kiss surprisingly soft and intimate. After a moment, though, she pulled away and sighed. “You have no idea how much I want to, Lucifer, and I mean, _really_ want to,” she insisted with a small laugh, “but I’ve gotta get home before my mom leaves for the airport, because Trixie can’t be alone.”

“Ah, yes,” he said, hiding his disappointment well. “The little urchin does need her mother, doesn’t she?”

Chloe nodded, and then with her heart hammering nervously in her chest, ventured tentatively, “But maybe another time?”

“Yes, of course,” he said, but he already seemed to be closing himself off again, building his walls back up.

Always one step forward and two back with him.

It wasn’t until much later in the day, when she was straightening up the kitchen, daydreaming about how good Lucifer had fucked her that morning, while Trixie colored in the living room, that she realized the burn on Lucifer’s arm from the fire at Sol de Javier had completely healed—not even a scar remained. The burn he had received not even 24 hours before they slept together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear what you thought as well as any constructive feedback you might have!
> 
> I am also planning to continue this fic for a few more chapters. I'm currently outlining the next few chapters and deciding where I want to go with it. When I post the next chapter, I'll update the total number of chapters expected.
> 
> :)


	3. Take Me Back To Hell

The soft light from Trixie’s bedside lamp bathed her room in a comforting, warm glow. Chloe stretched out on the twin bed with her daughter curled tightly into her side, taking comfort in her mother’s soft voice as she read to her from one of her favorite books.

“Mommy?” Trixie interrupted softly.

“Yeah, monkey?” Chloe asked, pausing her storytelling to pet the young girl’s hair out of her face.

Trixie nuzzled closer into her side. “What if I have a nightmare?”

“Then you can come sleep in my bed with me,” she said, rubbing her back gently. “But hopefully you won’t have any nightmares—that’s why we’re reading _Henry and Mudge_ ; so that hopefully you’ll dream about having adventures with your own big dog someday.”

“I’m scared I’m going to dream about the bad man,” she confessed, and Chloe knew she was shaken up over the events that had transpired that day.

She pressed a kiss to the top of Trixie’s head. “I know, baby,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “Just try to remember that the bad man can’t hurt you anymore, okay? And if anyone else ever tries to hurt you, I will do _everything_ I can to protect you.”

She felt Trixie’s head bob against her ribs as she nodded. “I know, Mommy,” she confirmed with a yawn. “And Lucifer, too, right? He saved us tonight, didn’t he?”

Swallowing the lump growing in her throat, Chloe had to push away thoughts of what might have happened had her partner followed her orders for once and not shown up when he did. She didn’t know if she’d be here right now; if Trixie would be here. “Yeah, baby, he did.”

Things with Lucifer had been weird lately (well, weirder than usual).

She thought that after they slept together the last time, things had seemed different between them. Almost like they were moving toward something more than just partners-who-occasionally-fuck.

That morning, the sex had felt like something _more_ than just sex. It had been intimate and both had been vulnerable with each other.

And then, she thought that they had shared a moment after the charity gala he had hosted, when he’d unexpectedly shown up to her house.

She had confessed that she came to him the night that Dan broke up with her because she felt like she could let her guard down with him; that he made her vulnerable.

And he had told her that she made him vulnerable as well.

Well, apparently opening up to him about her feelings had freaked him out, because after their moment, he completely ghosted her for two whole weeks.

So, she had definitely gotten the message. Loud and clear.

Lucifer was obviously not ready to move their relationship into more-than-just-partners territory—she was telling herself that he wasn’t _ready_ for that step, and not that he didn’t _want_ it.

When he finally started coming around again after she told him she needed him for a case involving devil worshippers, she backed off; she didn’t push.

Things finally started to go back to normal—minus the fact that he refused to ride in a car with her and had shown up late to her house one night demanding to see her back.

“You’ve seen my back,” she had said, not amused.

“I need to see it again,” he had insisted. “I wasn’t exactly looking at your _back_ the last time I saw you naked.”

So, _somewhat_ normal.

But then, Lucifer was framed for murder. And she knew it had hurt him when she tried to arrest him; that he’d felt betrayed by her.

She hoped she had made it up to him by working with Dan—Dan! Who was the one who shot Malcolm at Palmetto and let her think she was crazy about the whole case—to clear his name.

They had all been through _a lot_ the past few weeks.

And to top it all off, Malcolm had kidnapped Trixie earlier that evening—hence, her fear of having nightmares of the bad man.

Lucifer had really come through for them. She still couldn’t wrap her head around _how_ —she could have sworn Malcolm shot him; that she’d seen a pool of his blood; so much blood. But somehow, in typical Lucifer fashion, the man was fine. Not even a scratch.

After quietly closing the door to Trixie’s bedroom, hoping against all hope that her daughter would not be tormented by nightmares that night, Chloe poured herself a glass of wine and settled onto the couch.

Lately she’d been spending a few hours each night combing the internet for information about the Devil, Heaven, Hell, and God. All things Biblical.

Not because she _believed_ Lucifer; no definitely not. She just wanted to be better informed for the next time Lucifer went on one of his nonsensical tirades, so that she could try to make sense of it. That was all. _Really_.

Except she couldn’t ignore that tiny niggling voice in the back of her mind that whispered on repeat: _but what if_...

There were plenty of things she couldn’t logically explain about her partner; walking away without a scratch after Malcolm shot him just the most recent in a long list of peculiarities.

She was in the middle of reading a lengthy article written by a professor at UCLA about how the devil is misunderstood, when a soft knock on the front door interrupted her.

Quickly shutting her laptop, embarrassed by her current line of research, she padded over to the front door, first peering out from between the curtains that hung over the window, and then, seeing that it was just Lucifer, quickly unlocked the door to usher him in.

“I thought you had to meet with Amenadiel?” Chloe asked forgoing a greeting.

At the airplane hangar, after all was said and done, she had been shaken. She had thought Lucifer had _died_ and that she was next.

She’d wanted nothing more than to go home and snuggle up with her kid while they read a bedtime story. _And,_ she had wanted Lucifer there with them.

He had saved them—somehow. And Trixie clearly felt safe with him; _she_ felt safe with him, too. Chloe thought maybe he’d also been shaken up by the events of the night—he had seemed shaken up; but when she invited him to come home with them, he had declined, saying he needed to see his brother.

“I did,” he replied. “He left, and, well, I had hoped your invitation was still good?”

She smiled up at him, surprised, and nodded. “Of course, Lucifer, you’re always welcome here—no invitation necessary,” she said, wanting to remove that inkling of doubt she had detected in his tone.

As they passed through the kitchen, she played with her hands as she asked, “Would you like a drink, or…”

He cleared his throat. “A drink would be lovely, Detective; thank you.”

She poured him a glass of her cheap wine, shaking her head at them. _Why were they acting so nervous around each other?_

Their fingers brushed as she passed him the glass. He took a sip and spluttered. “What _is_ this dreck?”

Chloe couldn’t help but giggle at the face he pulled. “Rosé,” she replied.

“It’s dreadful.”

“It was five dollars,” she explained.

“Ah,” he said as if that explained it all. Still, he took another sip, and as he did so, his face scrunched up in distaste.

“Oh, come on. It’s not _that_ bad.” She rolled her eyes at him.

He smacked his lips. “I beg to differ.”

They stood awkwardly in her kitchen for a moment before she ventured, “Do you wanna sit?” and gestured to the couch.

He nodded and followed her into the other room where he sat a comfortable distance from her on the couch. She picked up her own wine glass and turned her body slightly toward him.

“What a night,” Chloe said after another moment of quiet when she realized that uncharacteristically, Lucifer wasn’t going to fill the silence with his usual chatter.

“Mmmm.” He confirmed, his gaze distant for a moment, his mind obviously elsewhere. He glanced at Trixie’s door. “How is the little urchin?”

Sighing, Chloe leaned back into the corner of the couch. She folded one leg under herself and kept the other on the floor. “She’s shaken up; worried about having nightmares tonight.”

He nodded, turning back to her. “I’m sure it was a frightening experience for her.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Thank you. For following me to the hangar. I shouldn’t have gone in without backup, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there. Well, I do know. He would have killed me, and if he would have found Trixie, he would have killed her, too.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” he reassured her, so serious that it made her believe he would be somehow able to prevent her from dying, which was ridiculous.

“I still don’t really know what happened,” she said, trailing off. She didn’t want to push him, and she didn’t know if she’d get a straight answer anyway, but she knew that Malcolm had shot him. She’d seen Lucifer’s blood and heard Malcolm’s taunts. “Well, anyway. Thank you,” she finished sincerely.

“Of course, Detective.” His smile turned mischievous, “Does this mean I can defy all your orders now?”

She squinted her eyes at him, pretending to think on it, “Hmmmmm, _no_.”

He clicked his tongue. “Didn’t think so.”

Stretching her legs out on the couch, Chloe pressed her toes into his thigh. “So, are you done avoiding me?”

“I suppose,” he answered, amusement in his tone. He picked one of her socked feet up off his thigh and dug his thumbs into the sole.

She reclined further back into the couch, relaxing under his touch. “Good. I missed my partner.”

Lucifer swallowed and kept his eyes planted firmly on his task, continuing to gently massage her foot. She worried that she had pushed him again and had to remind herself that he wasn’t ready; wasn’t good at the emotional stuff. She had almost regretted saying anything, when a small smile pulled at his lips. “And I, you, Detective.”

They were quiet a moment; Chloe sipped her wine and Lucifer rubbed her foot.

“I’m sorry I tried to arrest you,” she said, feeling like tonight was a good night for confessions and apologies.

“Oh,” he began to wave it off, switching now to her other foot, but she knew it had hurt him. _She_ had hurt him.

“I _never_ for one second actually believed you did it, Lucifer. I want you to know that. I never doubted you.”

“Oh,” he said, finally sending her a smile.

“I trust you completely. And Trixie does too. You make her feel safe.” _You make me feel safe_ , she didn’t say.

But he did make her feel safe. She had calmed considerably since his arrival, exhaustion from the previous few days finally catching up to her. Even still, before he had arrived, she’d worried if she’d get any sleep at all. But now, her eyelids were already drooping. She was comforted by his presence.

“Oh,” he repeated, at a loss for words, the admissions taking him back. _How could the devil make anyone feel safe?_

She yawned, a large, loud thing, and her cheeks pinked with embarrassment. He set her foot down with a pat.

“You should get some sleep, Detective.”

She nodded. “Will you stay?”

“If you’d like.” And she was surprised by how easily he had agreed.

Humming an affirmative, she stood and took their wine glasses to the sink in the kitchen. Then she led him up the stairs to her bedroom.

“I’m just gonna go change,” she said, grabbing her pajamas and taking them into the bathroom with her. Even though they’d slept together now twice, it felt weird to undress in front of him, because they weren’t together.

Chloe completed her nightly bathroom routine, returning to her room in an oversized long-sleeved LAPD t-shirt and cotton shorts to find Lucifer standing shirtless next to her bed. He looked so large and out of place in her room, it almost made her laugh.

“I don’t have anything to sleep in,” he confessed.

“Boxers?”

He shook his head, smirking. “Not wearing any.”

She laughed. “I think I have some shorts that will fit you,” she said, turning to dig around in her dresser. She found the pair she was after and tossed them at him.

Shamelessly, he undid his belt and zipper right there, letting his trousers fall to the floor and leaving him gloriously naked in front of her before she could turn around to give him privacy.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, surprised, although she shouldn’t have been. He had never had any qualms about displaying his nude form to anyone, really. After staring at him longer than what was appropriate, she finally managed to turn away from him.

“You can turn back now, Detective, I’m decent.” Lucifer teased. When she did, he spread his arms and said, “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“I know,” she said with a knowing smile, “But still.”

She approached him slowly, eyes focused on his bare chest. When she got close enough, she reached her hand out, but stopped just short of touching him to ask, “Can I?”

“Detective, you may touch me wherever you like whenever you like; I’ve no objections,” he flirted with a wink.

She huffed out a small laugh and rolled her eyes up at him, but smoothed her hands over his chest. She found not a scar nor a scratch on him. Just smooth, warm skin.

She looked up at him puzzled and said softly, “I could have sworn he shot you.”

“He did,” Lucifer confirmed casually. His breathing sped up as her fingers roamed his torso.

“But you’re not hurt,” she said, almost as if to herself. Her fingers continued to trace up his sides and then over his shoulders and down his arms.

“Like I said, I got better,” was his only explanation.

_How could there have been a pool of his blood—so much of it—yet no wounds to match?_

“Mmmm, Detective, you’re starting to rile me up,” he said, eyes half-lidded. He raised his eyebrow suggestively, and then purposefully lowered his eyes to his crotch.

She bit her lip, oh so tempted to give in, but she shook her head. “We can’t do anything tonight, Lucifer. Trixie might come up if she has a nightmare.” She yawned again, “And I’m beat, anyway.”

“Right,” he said, all of a sudden out of his comfort zone. He didn’t spend the night at other people’s places; people stayed with him. And he had never shared a bed with someone without having sex with them first. His schema for what to do in this situation was lacking.

“Still, will you stay? Just to sleep?” she asked, nervous for his response. Maybe he’d only agreed to stay with her originally because he thought they would have sex again.

He nodded, not able to say no to her. “If you wish.”

“But, do _you_ want to?” she pressed. In moments like these, he was so hard to read.

Again, he nodded. “I’d like to stay, Detective. I’d like to be near you tonight, yes.” He had found that ever since Father Frank’s death, he was increasingly worried for her safety. And the Detective found herself in harm’s way more often than he liked to think about.

At his words, relief flooded through her. He drew comfort from her presence the same way she drew comfort from his.

“Good,” she said with a soft smile. She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the bed.

They climbed in on either side, and Chloe quickly, before she could second-guess herself, snuggled backwards into his side, her back pressing against the length of his arm.

It was awkward at first—with Lucifer lying stiffly on his back for a few moments—but then he rolled onto his side and pressed his chest to her back.

The warmth of his chest felt nice against Chloe’s back. She reached behind herself to grab his arm and pulled it over her waist, settling his arm against her chest and bringing his hand up to rest in hers against her heart.

The position had them pressed so closely together that Lucifer could feel her upper body expand against his chest with every breath she took, and he could feel her heart thumping rhythmically underneath his hand. It was pleasant, reassuring. His nose pressed into the silk strands of her hair, where he inhaled the strawberry scent of her shampoo.

She sighed, big and content and comfortable, and brought his hand up to her lips so she could kiss his knuckles goodnight. Shortly after, her eyes fluttered closed, and she slept.

**. . .**

When she awoke the next morning, they hadn’t moved much. Lucifer enveloped around her, their bodies touching from her shoulder blades all the way down to her calves.

She sighed, closing her eyes again to enjoy his warmth for another few minutes or so; feeling in no hurry to get her day started.

Shifting closer into him and inadvertently wiggling her hips into his crotch, she was surprised to note an absence of morning wood—it being Lucifer and sleeping with her ass pressed against him all night, she expected some kind of reaction.

At her movement, his hand migrated from where it lay flat against her stomach to her hips, stilling her.

“Good morning,” he whispered gruffly in her ear.

“Morning,” she replied softly, not moving a muscle. So, he was already awake. “I guess Trixie slept through the night,” she said happily. She hated the idea of her daughter being plagued with nightmares because of Malcolm.

Lucifer cleared his throat slightly, nudging her hip. She turned her head to look at him, gasping at the way the light from the window seemed to illuminate him; he looked, for lack of a better word, angelic. But he wasn’t privy to her train of thought, and instead gestured with his head for her to look over his shoulder.

Loathe to extract herself from her warm cocoon, Chloe reluctantly lifted herself up on her elbow, twisting her torso to examine the bed behind him. There, Trixie lay curled against his back.

Chloe giggled, understanding washing over her. No morning wood, Lucifer’s frozen posture, and his voice not going higher than a whisper. She wondered how long he had been awake, not moving a muscle for fear of waking the child up.

She lay back down, rolling onto her back so that she could face her partner. He looked adorably panicked, like he wasn’t sure what to do with either of them.

“I wanted to get up and make you both breakfast, but I couldn’t find a way to extract myself without disturbing one of you,” he whispered.

Her smile softened. “You want to make us breakfast?” Her eyes dipped down to his lips of their own accord. She wanted to kiss him.

“Well, I thought it a nice gesture,” he averted his eyes, embarrassed, “and I figured that if you were left to your own devices, you’d just have buttered toast and cereal. Hardly worthy fare for the most important meal of the day, especially for the spawn who’s still growing.”

She chose to ignore the latter part of his argument and said softly, “It _is_ a nice gesture. Thank you, Lucifer.”

He hummed, still avoiding her eyes, the intimacy of the moment maybe too much for him. “Well,” he said gesturing with his hand, “off you scooch.”

Chloe shook her head, amused, and then rolled out of bed.

“Do you need any help?” she asked watching him stretch by her bedside, bare-chested and lithe. Subconsciously, her tongue darted out, wetting her lower lip.

He shook his head and said, “No. You go back to sleep for a while longer. I’ll come wake you when it’s ready.”

Not needing to be convinced, she climbed back into bed, cuddling up to Trixie.

Lucifer paused at the door, turning back to ask, “Any requests?”

“Mmmm,” she considered. “Pancakes? And coffee—lots and lots of coffee.”

“Coming right up,” he grinned at her and then left the room.

**. . .**

Later that week she would perseverate over whether or not she should test Lucifer’s blood from the hangar.

The truth, though, was that she was scared of what the results might be. And the fact that she was scared, scared her even more, because _was she actually starting to believe that her partner might be exactly who he said he was?_

She would look for any reason _not_ to test it, even having a lengthy chat with Ella about faith and uncertainty.

But she was a detective, and it was in her nature to search for answers, to uncover the truth. She wasn’t someone who could just ignore evidence. She craved certainty.

And so, she tested it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was more of an interlude, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same!
> 
> There will be more smut in the next one, I promise!


	4. Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you all enough for the comments & kudos on the last chapter! I so appreciate it! I'm having so much fun writing this fic and it makes it even better knowing people are enjoying reading it.
> 
> So many of you were so intrigued by Chloe deciding to test Lucifer's blood -- I hope it isn't too anticlimactic lol; but it will play more of a role in later chapters (sort of)!
> 
> I do want to put a little warning here, that while it was not my interpretation while writing it, that potentially some readers might perceive the first sex scene as dubcon. If this is something you avoid at all costs, then you might want to consider skipping the first sex scene (there are two). 
> 
> Also, of note- the scene where Chloe talks to Lucifer after he begged the sniper to shoot him did not happen in this fic (so she doesn't tell him to talk to Linda). I do use some of that dialogue though in the chapter!
> 
> Enjoy!

Lucifer’s blood test came back inconclusive.

_What did that even mean? How could so much about him and his past lack definitive answers? How could so much of his existence be unexplainable?_

“I tested your blood,” she had told him. They had been sitting at her desk in the precinct, and she had paused in the middle of her paperwork to tell him. He had looked up from the game he was playing on his new phone, surprised.

“Oh, so you actually did it?” he had replied, and his tone was curious, intrigued even. “And?”

She had squinted her eyes at him, trying to figure him out. “The test came back inconclusive.”

“I wondered what it would say—I don’t suppose “angel blood” is even a possible result from those tests,” he had chuckled to himself, “Coming back inconclusive would make sense.”

“Well,” she had continued, gauging his reaction through her narrowed eyes, “it happens sometimes if there’s a problem with the sample or if the sample was contaminated.”

He had sighed then, his frustration with her obvious. “No matter the evidence, you humans will always bend over backwards to explain it in a way that fits with your worldview. Cognitive dissonance if I ever did see it—don’t know why Dad invented that.”

“Hmmm,” Chloe had replied, ignoring his strange rant, and regarding him for another few moments before returning to the pile of paperwork on her desk.

Weeks passed, and Chloe settled into a new dynamic with Lucifer—one where he came around more frequently, but one where they weren’t having sex.

She truly didn’t know what to make of the change. _Had he lost interest in her like she had feared might happen? Had too much time passed since the last time they had fucked, and now it just felt awkward to broach the subject again? Did he think_ she _wasn’t interested in_ him?

It didn’t feel as though he’d lost interest; they’d actually been spending more of their free time together. He still flirted with her and made salacious comments, but he never _acted_ on them. And he was just so skittish about relationships and emotions and commitment, that she was nervous to make the first move, afraid she’d scare him off again.

She was trying to give him time, even though she wanted more. She wanted to be _with_ him. Before, she hadn’t even considered him an option, but now… now she wanted him to be the _only_ option. 

Because he was showing up for her now in ways that he never had.

Like after the dust had settled with Malcolm’s shooting, and it really began to sink in that Dan had been the one at Palmetto; that he’d kept it from her, sitting back and saying nothing while she was bullied by their coworkers and thought that she was going crazy.

Lucifer was there for her; he listened to her and agreed with her. She knew he was on her side and it felt good to have someone in her court for once; he’d always had her back.

And then, after she and Dan finally signed the divorce papers, he’d shown up to her door with a bag of take-out and a bottle of expensive wine, since he refused to drink anymore of her cheap stuff.

And he’d been so worried about her, after her car accident. Maybe even annoyingly so—clinging to her and paranoid that every little thing was a threat to her safety.

Time after time, he showed up for her, had her back, supported her. Her feelings for him kept growing. When he wasn’t around, she craved his presence. His sense of humor was so unique, she was always caught off guard by his comments in the best way.

He had brought light back into her life; fun and spontaneity.

That’s why she was beside herself with worry for him, because he’d been acting _so_ strangely today, and he wouldn’t open up to her.

She’d reprimanded him all morning for showing up clearly hungover (and maybe still drunk) to the crime scene, trying to eat the wedding cake, trying to drink the champagne, and then making out with a bridesmaid. That one had hurt.

Because naively, she’d thought that maybe he hadn’t been fucking anyone else since they’d hooked up. And yeah, it had been weeks, and it was _Lucifer_ , and it was stupid to even think that, but she _had_.

She knew something must have happened, to bring him to such a dark place. She’d tried and tried to get him to talk to her, told him she was there for him, but he refused.

That had hurt, too, because she thought that they’d been confiding in one another. He’d been there for her the last few weeks, and she wanted to be there for him in return—but he kept her at arm’s length.

When he’d punched Dan, it had been the last straw, and she’d sent him home. She told herself she’d check in on him later, after he’d had some time to himself, and after she’d solved the case. She had to focus on the case, and she couldn’t do that with him around.

But he hadn’t stayed away. Somehow he knew where they were going to apprehend their suspect, and she had watched as he stood without any cover, in the direct range of the sniper, and _begged_ to be shot, to have his life taken from him.

That was when she realized the gravity of what he was going through.

She had gotten to the sniper before Lucifer was hurt, but in the chaos the followed the arrest, Lucifer had fled without a word to her.

Once she’d finished at the crime scene, she called Maze on her way to her car. She and Trixie were back from trick-or-treating, and Maze had assured Chloe that she’d be home all night, so it didn’t matter when she returned for the evening. _If she returned at all_ , Maze had said suggestively.

Chloe just needed to talk to Lucifer.

She rode the elevator up, her heart racing from so many mixed emotions—anger at him for putting himself in harm’s way; for being so selfish; sadness over what he must be going through; confusion and hurt over him not letting her in; and nervousness about coming to him at all when he was so clearly on edge.

She recalled making this same trip after Father Frank had died weeks ago; it was hard to believe just how much had changed in that short amount of time between them.

“Lucifer,” she called softly as she made her way into his penthouse. Her voice shook with all of the emotions she felt weighing on her.

“Why are you here, Detective?” Lucifer asked, appearing in the doorway to his balcony. "Come to reprimand me some more? Kick me off another case?"

“Lucifer, I’m worried about you!” she said, somewhat desperately. She didn’t know what she’d do if he sent her away. Again, her voice shook as she tried to keep her emotions at bay. “What you did today was extremely reckless and stupid. Were you trying to get yourself killed?”

He turned away from her and that was answer enough.

She took a step closer to him, feeling a lump swelling in her throat and tears stinging the corners of her eyes. “I wish you would just talk to me,” she implored, “I wish you would just tell me what happened!”

“You wouldn’t understand, Detective!” he thundered back at her, then added softly, “You can’t.”

“How do you know?” she pressed. “You won’t even give me a chance. Do you really think so little of me?” Even though she was trying to keep her frustration at bay, her voice rose a little in desperation. “I thought we had moved beyond that—I thought we were becoming…something. I’ve been opening up to you, and it hurts that you won’t do the same for me.”

He shook his head, knowing he could never tell her, and knowing that not telling her would disappoint her. But, he couldn’t bear to see her face when she realized what he’d done--to his own brother no less. He knew she was frustrated with him, and he couldn’t meet her eyes.

When Chloe turned to leave, he should have let her. She was the best person he’d ever met; truly good. He was a monster, and she deserved so much better than him.

Lucifer was selfish, though, and he needed her.

Catching her by the forearm, he spun her easily back to him, their chests colliding with the force of his pull. “Don’t go,” he whispered, pleading with her, and sounding so broken.

She nodded once, a slight thing, but in the next instant, his lips were on hers, his kiss bruising in its intensity.

It had been so long since they’d fucked, and suddenly it was all he could think about; the need to be one with her was all-consuming.

He crushed her to him, relentlessly invading her mouth with his tongue. She was entirely at his mercy.

She moaned, the intensity of his kisses making her lightheaded. She thought he might devour her, and she might let him.

Loosening his hold on her, his hands immediately began tugging at her clothes; sliding the jacket off her shoulders, lifting the shirt up over her head, peeling the skinny jeans off her legs. She was naked in a matter of seconds.

Chloe reached for his face, but he pulled away from her, quickly undressing himself. His rejection stung. She watched him as he finished unbuttoning his shirt and then stepped out of his slacks.

She tried again, stepping into his space to place her hands on his chest, but he grabbed her wrists before she could touch him.

Meeting his eyes, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Why—”

“Because, I don’t deserve it,” he cut in bitterly.

Her heart broke for him. “Lucif—”

“Please, Detective,” he cut her off, and his tone was firm. It was not a request.

She lowered her hands. Her stomach churned. _How could he see himself so negatively, when all she saw was his light?_

Spinning her around, so that her back was to his chest, and with his hands on her hips, he walked her towards the sofa.

His hard cock pressed against her ass, and the feel of him made hot desire pool between her thighs. She wanted him so badly; it had been so long.

_Was this what he needed?_ She didn’t know; she didn’t think so. Whatever he was going through, he needed real help—this was different from the other times they’d fucked. He was in a darker place, and sex wouldn’t bring him out of it.

She wanted to be there for him, though, and he wasn’t talking to her, wasn’t opening up. She didn’t know what else to do, and she wanted to be close to him. She wanted to offer him comfort like she did the night Father Frank passed.

“Lucifer?” she questioned softly. “Are you sure…?”

His lips found her neck, and he sunk his teeth into her pulse, causing her to yelp in surprise. He soothed the sting of pain with his tongue, and then sucked the spot between his lips, leaving his mark.

She moaned as his hands traced up her belly to cup her breasts in his palms. They fit perfectly and he knew just the right amount of pressure to have her writhing against him.

“I just want to forget; just for a little while,” he pleaded into her ear. “Please, Detective.”

She couldn’t say no. He needed her, and it felt nice to be needed by him. And because she wanted this. She wanted this so badly her body ached for him.

She wiggled her hips lustfully against him and whimpered, “Fuck me, Lucifer.”

Wasting no time, he bent her over the sofa. Her hands pressed into the leather arm, supporting her upper body. One of his hands smoothed up the curve of her back while the other reached between her legs.

The position left her exposed and vulnerable and oh so wet. His fingers came away coated in her juices, and he hummed as sucked them into his mouth.

She turned her head to watch him, her eyes the color of the sea during a storm.

He kicked at her feet to spread her legs further apart, and grabbed his dick, positioning it at her entrance.

Moaning loudly as he rubbed the tip along her seam, making sure to hit her clit with each pass, she thrust backwards arching her ass up to him.

Lucifer sank into her, without warning, in one fluid motion until he was buried to the hilt inside her. She cried out, having forgotten how incredible he felt, thick and pulsing inside of her. _A perfect fit_ , she thought for the second time that night.

His hands gripped her hips, pulling her body to meet him with each thrust. He quickly picked up the pace, pounding into her.

When she tried to turn her head to watch him, one of his hands fisted into her hair holding her in place. He couldn’t bear for her to look at him after what he’d done. What would she think, knowing that she was fucking a murderer? A monster. The kind of person she had devoted her life to punishing. He snapped his hips harder.

It was rougher than the sex she usually had, rougher than he’d been with her the previous times, riding the line between pain and pleasure. She was surprised by how much she liked it. All kinds of sounds tumbled from her lips, nonsense syllables and grunts.

She liked having him fuck her this way, but at the same time, she wondered why he had chosen a position that was so impersonal; so anonymous. He wouldn’t even let her look at him. She could have been anyone to him in this position, because he couldn’t see her; didn’t seem to _want_ to see her.

Tears pricked her eyes as doubt coursed through her veins. _Did he feel the same way about her that she felt for him? Why didn’t he want her to touch him, to comfort him?_

With each thrust, his balls smacked against her clit enhancing her pleasure and quickly bringing her to the edge, despite the contradictory thoughts and feelings swirling like a tornado in her mind.

It was quick and dirty and they both came in a matter of minutes. And while she felt so many mixed emotions; while she wondered why Lucifer was keeping her at a distance, it was _her_ name he cried out as he came. _Chloe_.

Her arms gave out and her chest hit the cool leather of the sofa. There, her emotions finally got the best of her and she cried.

His thrusts slowed as they both rode the waves of their pleasure. He loosened the hand in her hair, smoothing her hair over one shoulder. His eyes caught on the rough, puckered patch of skin above her shoulder blade; the exit wound from the bullet when she was shot on their first case together.

He ran his fingers softly over it, causing Chloe to shudder beneath him.

He’d almost lost her then, before he’d even known her.

He’d almost lost her again yesterday.

Her mortality had plagued him since Father Frank’s death; weighing heavily on him, and he was drowning under the weight of it.

He pulled out of her, and then helped her up off the sofa.

It wasn’t until then that he noticed her red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks. She sniffled a little, embarrassed by her emotional display.

“Oh no,” Lucifer said, despair evident in his voice, “Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?”

“No, no,” she said quickly, not wanting him to come to the wrong conclusion or add to his guilt.

“Then why are you crying?” he asked, cupping her cheek in his hand.

He was so concerned for her, his hand so sweet and warm against her cheek—so caring when moments ago he’d been so detached—and she couldn’t help it. Her eyes welled up again. He brushed at a tear that escaped down her cheek with his thumb.

“I’m crying because you’re hurting, and you won’t open up to me. You really scared me today, the way you acted with that sniper. You could have been killed, and it scares me that you didn’t even care. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here, Lucifer. I lo—” her eyes widened, as she realized what she had nearly admitted, surprising even herself with the depth of her feelings for him. But she knew it was true; she loved him. She cleared her throat and corrected quickly, “I care about you.”

He stared at her in awe. He couldn’t understand how she could care for _him_. “But you can’t care about me, Detective. I’m the _Devil_.”

Chloe shook her head. “Every time you say you you’re evil or you’re the Devil, I know that’s not who you really are. Not to me. I know you,” she insisted. “I know you’re good. And I know that whatever is eating you up inside, whatever has you feeling so guilty, I know that you must have had a good reason for doing it.”

“Chloe,” he whispered softly, like a prayer.

She smiled up at him through her tears. She liked the way he said her name.

He leaned in, pressing the softest kiss to her lips. It was reverent, and there was something behind it—something weighty and emotional—no denying it.

His fingers traced her cheekbone and jaw line. It was weird, he thought, but he loved the shape of her face; somehow sharp and soft at the same time.

“Lucifer,” she whispered against his lips, her fingers wrapping gently around his neck.

His heart beat hard and rapid in his chest, feeling as though it was expanding with each beat, like soon it would burst. Her voice, saying his name _so_ softly, with no malice or fear, made his stomach flip. She made him feel things he’d never felt in all of his eons of existence.

_Was it because she made him vulnerable?_ _Did all humans feel this way during sex? Was he more human when he was with her?_

Sex with her had always felt different. He knew now that part of it was that he could experience pain with her. Every time her fingers tugged at his hair, or her nails left small crescents in his skin, or she nipped at his lip or his earlobe, he felt it, that sharp sting of pain fading into the most exquisite pleasure.

But that couldn’t be the whole of it, because it didn’t explain why his heart beat erratically in his chest or why his hands all of a sudden were so shaky as he ran them over her collarbone.

Lucifer pressed his forehead to hers. “You make me feel something _different_ ,” he confessed and Chloe could hear the perplexity in his voice, like he wanted her to enlighten him.

The confession had her heart soaring. “Me too,” she said, swallowing down the lump in her throat. Her eyes pricked with tears, but she was able to hold them in this time, not wanting to explain why what he said had made her so emotional.

Lucifer seemed on the cusp of something, a realization, maybe, about what he felt for her, and she did not want to scare him away. It made her nervous, walking on eggshells, but she could do it—for now. She could give him time.

He kissed her again, a chaste little thing that somehow conveyed more to her than any of his passionate kisses had. Because this kiss wasn’t just about sex.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “for being so rough with you.”

“It’s okay—I liked it,” she smiled reassuringly at him. “But I wanted to see you and touch you. I wanted to comfort you.”

“I didn’t feel as though I deserved it at the time,” he explained.

“And now?”

“You make me feel…good. Deserving. I’ve never felt that before. I’ve been told for _millennia_ that I’m bad, evil, at fault for every wicked sin humanity commits. A part of me has always believed it—a part of me still does—and I’ve always hated myself for it. But, I like myself when I’m with you.”

She inhaled lightly, her eyes searching his face. Softly, she asked, “I make you feel those things?”

He nodded, just once, a small, lopsided smile lifting up one side of his face. His eyes held hers.

She’d been worried about him all day and so frustrated that he wouldn’t open up to her. And while he still wouldn’t tell her what had led to his breakdown today, she’d take what she could get. And this conversation was a huge step forward.

Her hands traveled his chest—slowly, to make sure he truly welcomed her touch now—feeling the scratch of his untrimmed chest hair against her fingertips.

He gasped, his breathing speeding up under her caresses. She watched his face as his eyes darkened, his eyelids drooping, and she continued to explore his chest, back, and arms.

She stepped into him, closing the distance between them, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her cheek pressed into his chest, the sharp stubble irritating her skin just a little, but she didn’t mind.

She hugged him; held him close.

It took him a moment, but eventually his arms wound around her, too. He liked it, appreciated the feeling of her naked body pressed to his in a soothing, instead of sexual, way. Her warmth seeped into him, and her scent, familiar and reassuring, encompassed them.

She pressed a kiss to his chest, just above his heart, and her hands began to roam again. This time, she let them drift up and down his lower back, and the air around them began to change, becoming heated and charged again.

Her hands on him and her body against his had him wanting her again.

Her fingers brushed the edge of his scar and he gasped, arching into her.

“Can I?” she asked, her voice so raspy. Her dark eyes met his, and he knew she desired him again, too.

It was a lot to agree to. His lovers typically avoided his scars or only touched them by accident. The rough skin was sensitive and reminded him of things he’d rather not think about. But maybe she would change that; maybe after allowing her to touch them, he’d associate them with her instead of with Heaven and his fall from grace.

“Okay,” he agreed softly, and he looked so vulnerable, that Chloe vowed to herself that she’d be gentle with them.

Her fingertips barely ghosted over the outside edges of each of his scars, tracing the lines gently.

_His wing scars_ , she thought to herself, remembering what he’d told her about them. She traced the outline of each of them, noting that they did indeed resemble what the scars might look like if wings were to sprout from one’s back.

He moaned and shuddered as she caressed him softly, and she peppered his chest with kisses. Bodies still pressed together, she felt him growing hard again against her belly.

“Do you like it?” she asked, turning her head upward to kiss the underside of his chin.

“Mmmm,” he affirmed. He thrust a little against her stomach. “Your hands on them, it makes it feel as though my wings are still there. Ever since I cut them off, I haven’t felt complete. With you touching them, I feel whole,” he marveled.

He didn’t know how that could be or why—and for a moment he wondered again about her origins. _Had his dad sent her to him for some reason? Because only the divine could make him feel this way._ He trusted her, though. He knew she wasn’t out to get him, like he had once thought.

“Chloe,” he breathed, pulling back slightly so that he could connect their lips. “I need you.”

She kissed him back, pulling his lower lip between her teeth and biting it softly. “You have me,” she whispered.

He lifted her, her legs easily wrapping around his hips, pressing her core against his cock. They both moaned, and she bucked against him, digging her heels into his ass.

This time, their eyes never left one another; their faces remained close, as they breathed the same air.

His hands grasped the backs of her thighs, supporting her, as he walked them in the direction of his bedroom.

He backed her into his Assyrian wall, grinding his hips against hers and coating his throbbing member in her arousal. Her head thrown back against the stone wall, she cried out, loud and wanton, as he rubbed his cock against her clit.

“Bed,” she gasped out, and he obeyed, quickly navigating them up the steps and over to his California king.

He laid her down, crawling over her immediately and covering her body with his. Like magnets, his mouth was drawn to hers. Her lips were satin against his, plush and luxurious. 

His hands found hers and he intertwined their fingers, pressing their palms together and into the pillow above her head as he rolled his body against hers.

She bent her legs at the knees and then used her hips to flip him onto his back.

Chuckling, he raised his eyebrow at her, clearly impressed. “Well, well, Detective!”

She kissed the smirk off his face, swinging her leg over him to straddle his waist. “I’ve got moves,” she teased.

“I see that,” he said, bending his legs at the knees behind her. “Care to show me more of them?”

“Maybe later,” she replied, sliding herself down his toned stomach and leaving behind a trail of her hot arousal. “Right now,” she said grasping his cock firmly in her hand and pumping his length a few times, causing him to moan, “I just want you inside me.”

And with that, she slowly sank down on him.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head at the feel of her, warm and wet and tight around him. She clenched her inner muscles making him buck up into her. “Fuck!” she cried as he bumped against her cervix.

She linked their fingers again, the way he had done moments before, and began to undulate her hips, setting a slow, indulgent pace.

The sounds of their quiet, blissful moans were all that filled the room for a moment as Chloe set the pace, rocking her hips so that each movement produced sweet friction against her clit.

He watched, transfixed, as she lost herself to the pleasure—eyes closed, mouth open, teeth every once in a while sinking into her bottom lip. With every roll of her hips, she made such a delicious “Mmmm,” sound. The sight of her alone nearly made him come. She was so gorgeous.

“Come here,” he managed, his voice thick and husky.

Her eyes fluttered open to meet his, and she easily acquiesced, lowering herself and meeting his lips with hers.

There was no finesse to the kiss, it was mainly just a press of lips to lips as she focused instead on increasing her pace.

He slipped his fingers from hers and traced his hands down the curve of her spine. Digging his fingers into the flesh of her ass, he helped guide her movements, and using his heels as they dug into the bed, he met her thrust for thrust.

Their movements quickly became frantic, as the change in angle now allowed for each of his thrusts to hit her g-spot and her clit found friction against the now slickened skin above his pubic bone.

“Ahhh,” she moaned as the pleasure built up, nearly brimming over. “I’m so close.”

Her words spurred him on, and he slammed up into her, using his grip on her ass to pull her against him with each thrust.

She came hard, her body tingling to the very tips of her fingers and toes, as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her, contracting her muscles rhythmically against Lucifer’s cock as he continued to thrust into her relentlessly until he, too, tumbled over the edge.

Collapsing onto his chest, she buried her face into his neck where she pressed soft kisses against his sweaty skin.

He held her tenderly, one of his hands pressed reassuringly to the small of her back, while the other traced patterns up her spine and over her shoulder blades.

She shivered as the cool air of his penthouse chilled her sweaty skin.

“Can you stay?” he asked softly, his fingers playing with the ends of her hair.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. “Very much so. But I know you have the offspring to attend to.”

“Maze is watching her,” she murmured against his chest, sleepy and spent. “I can stay.”

Gently, he slid her off him and reached for the covers at the foot of the bed, pulling them up over their bodies.

“Mmmm,” she sighed appreciatively, snuggling deeper under the blanket and closer into his side.

He turned his body to face her. Her eyes were already closed, and she looked peaceful. He slipped his arm under hers to wrap around her waist, and she smiled, scooching closer to his chest.

A content little noise passed her lips as her nose bumped his chest.

“Hey, Lucifer,” she said softly.

“Hmmm?”

“If you can’t talk to me about whatever happened, will you please talk to someone else? Your therapist maybe?”

“Okay,” he agreed. He’d do anything she asked of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been envisioning this chapter since the moment I decided to make this fic more than just a one-shot.
> 
> It was definitely somewhat of a struggle to write; to get the emotions right and translate what I was picturing in my head into words, so I'd realllly love to hear what you all think about it.
> 
> I probably could have spent another few hours editing this, but I am really trying my hardest to finish this fic before classes start back up!


	5. My Little Monkey/Trip to Stabby Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe's insecurities begin to affect her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who has read, commented, left kudos, bookmarked and subscribed to this fic! I am so appreciative of you all!
> 
> Also, I stumbled upon some potentially spoilery info for 5B by accident after re-watching My Little Monkey for this fic. Just some info that leads into more speculation, but still it got me all excited, so if you want to know what it was PM me!  
> (also, maybe what I stumbled upon is already common knowledge, but I haven't seen any posts about it anywhere)
> 
> Enjoy this chapter <3

Things changed again after that night.

To Chloe, it felt like that blissful time at the beginning of a relationship, where things are fresh and exciting; everything Lucifer did turned her on. She wanted him all the time.

Except, they weren’t in a relationship.

It was frustrating, because Chloe did not do casual. She didn’t _like_ casual. The uncertainty of whether or not her feelings were reciprocated; the not knowing if he was fucking other people; the ambiguity of how he felt about her—it all made her feel insecure. She was _not_ an insecure person.

Even still, they couldn’t keep their hands off one another; fucking whenever they could find time and space away from everyone else.

Chloe did her best to push the uncertainties out of her mind.

While Lucifer wasn’t great at communicating how he felt for her through words (although he occasionally surprised her), she knew he cared for her because he showed it in other ways.

She’d read a book once about love languages. Lucifer’s love language was most certainly acts of service.

She’d always been someone who needed verbal affirmations, but she knew she wasn’t going to get that with Lucifer—not right now, anyway. So, she tried to stay focused on all the other things Lucifer did for her to show he cared.

Like after Deputy Warden Perry Smith gave them the slip at the prison.

Chloe was upset; it had been a long and emotionally draining day. She had really needed Lucifer’s support, but the selfish idiot hadn’t even realized she was upset until Dan mentioned something to him later.

Instead, he had accused her of ruining his relationship with this therapist—try to make sense of that one, because Chloe couldn’t—once again, making everything about himself.

It was just another drop in the bucket that held the growing indecision Chloe felt about where things were going with him.

_How could someone as emotionally immature as Lucifer be in a relationship?_ And then, a second voice, _Does he even want to_ be _in a relationship?_

As self-absorbed as Lucifer was, he was also really sweet. He tried his best to make it up to her—albeit, in that weird Lucifer way of his by channeling _Dan_ of all people—and he’d helped her figure out that Joe Fields was innocent; Perry Smith was the man who had actually killed her father.

Her partner had come through for her as he always did.

And that explained her see-sawing; because for every immature, selfish, or idiotic thing he did, he made up for it by surprising her with his thoughtfulness.

When Smith gave them the slip, she’d felt so disappointed in herself. All this time the man who had murdered her dad had been walking free, enjoying his life—and it infuriated her. They’d come so close to nabbing him, but he’d slipped through their fingers. It just felt like she was letting her dad down.

Lucifer drove her home and did his best to comfort her. When she called herself a failure, he immediately disagreed and told her, “For the first time in sixteen years, you know who the real killer is. It seems to me that justice is in your sights.”

For some reason, he always had faith in her. He never doubted her capability when it came to doing her job, and for some reason, his words _did_ make her feel better.

Warden Smith could only elude them for so long, and Chloe wouldn’t give up the search until he was rotting in a prison cell where he belonged.

“You’re right,” she said with a huff and a small smile. “Thank you.”

He smiled back with a nod as they approached the door to her apartment. “Well, in the meantime, since your offspring’s with Dan—”

“Lucifer,” she sighed, knowing where he was going, “It’s been a long day, and I don’t know if I’m in the mood tonight.”

“I’m simply suggesting,” he pressed on, ignoring her, “that you open a bottle of wine, or three, for yourself and just have a nice, relaxing night in. You deserve it.”

“Oh,” she said, surprised as she turned to unlock her door, “You know, that actually sounds _exactly_ like what I need right now.”

“Right. Well,” he said, awkwardly hovering over her. He took a step backwards. “I guess I’ll be going, then.”

“What?” she said, turning to face him. “You don’t want to stay for a while?”

“I just thought that you…” he trailed off, his brow furrowing adorably in confusion. “I’d like to stay.”

“Good,” she said with a soft smile, and then ushered him into the apartment.

Lucifer moved easily around her kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine from his own collection that he’d stashed in her pantry earlier that week and two wine glasses.

Chloe sat at the counter and watched as he filled the glasses and then slid one across to her.

“Thank you,” she said. She took a sip and then sighed heavily, rolling her neck and shoulders in an attempt to shed the tension and stress of the day. As she did so, her neck cracked loudly, and she huffed out an embarrassed little chuckle, averting her eyes.

He frowned at her from across the counter. “Are you tightly wound, Detective?”

“No more than usual,” she replied, raising her eyebrow in amusement at his strange phrasing.

“Would you like for me to give you a massage?” he offered, and his tone was only slightly suggestive.

She pretended to mull over his offer, even though she already knew she’d say yes, because when was the last time someone had offered to give her a massage? Hint: it was so long ago that she couldn’t even remember.

“I’ve been told I have magic fingers,” he added in a sing-song voice, wiggling those fingers in an attempt to tempt her into agreeing.

She rolled her eyes at him, not wanting to think about the person (or person _s_ ) who had told him that. “I’m sure you have.”

He grinned lecherously and ran the tip of his tongue over the edge of his front teeth, raising a playful eyebrow as he gazed at her.

She pursed her lips at him to hide the smile that was pulling at her cheeks. “Okay. If you truly don’t mind.”

“Darling, I assure you, it’d be my pleasure,” he insisted in between sips of his wine.

Bumping her foot against the wall of the counter, she reclined back in her chair, closed her eyes, and said, “I want to take a quick shower, though, first.”

“Lovely idea!” Lucifer enthused. “And then I can run out and get supplies. Why don’t I draw you a bath instead?” he suggested, already making his way around the counter to her.

Chloe shook her head, eyes popping open to look at him as she laughed at how over the top he was. She sat up. “No, Lucifer, a shower is fine. I want to wash the grime of the day _off_ , I don’t want to soak in it.”

“Of course. Whatever you like, Detective,” he replied, surrendering easily to her desires. He stood next to her now, and their arms bumped casually.

“And what supplies?” she asked, gazing up at him curiously. She finished the last sip of her wine.

“Massage oils, a few foam rollers, towels, and a neck pillow—”

She gawped at him and then quickly cut him off with an amused little laugh. “I don’t need all that. I have towels, and I think I might have some massage oil under the sink in the bathroom; I’ll check when I get in the shower. You don’t have to run out; we don’t need that other stuff.”

“But I wanted to get this specific type of towel that won’t scratch at your skin like those ratty old towels you have will,” he insisted.

“My ratty towels are fine.” She shook her head and bumped her shoulder into his arm. “Do you want to wait for me in my room or down here?”

“I’ll get your room set up. Do you have any candles?”

“Lucifer,” she groaned as she dropped her head into her hands, frustrated that he was making this into a thing. “I don’t _need_ candles.”

He stared at her with his brows furrowed, looking utterly perplexed. “I just want you to have a nice evening, Detective.”

She sighed, reminding herself that this was how he expressed himself. It was what she wanted from him, just in a slightly different way. Softly, she squeezed his arm and said, “It’s already turning into a _perfect_ evening. Just having you here has helped me relax so much already.”

“Really?” He didn’t seem to believe her.

“Yes, _really_ ,” she confirmed. “Now are you coming up or not?”

Chloe showered quickly, pulling her hair into a messy bun at the top of her head to keep it dry as she rinsed the day off her skin. After she washed her face and brushed her teeth, she emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, wrapped in her robe and carrying a small bottle of massage oil—God only knows how old it was.

Lucifer lay reclined on her bed, his loafers removed and set neatly by her doorway, his jacket draped over the small hope chest at the foot of her bed. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, giving her a glimpse of the smooth, freckled skin underneath, and he had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, exposing his forearms.

She bit her lip as she stared for a moment, simply appreciating the view of him looking so at home in her bed, as he fiddled with some game on his phone.

There was something about him all relaxed and unwinding from the day that made her stomach flutter. He always presented himself to the world as so put together, it made her feel special that she got to see him when he wasn’t.

She cleared her throat, and asked, “How do you want me?” and she was surprised by the huskiness of her voice.

When his dark eyes met hers, and he smirked seductively, she realized how she sounded. “In _oh so many_ ways, Detective,” he replied, and the low timbre of his voice caused her lower belly to twist pleasantly into warm knots.

“But for now,” he continued in a more normal tone of voice as he climbed off her bed. “Why don’t you remove that robe and lay face-down on the bed.”

Slipping the robe from her shoulders, she hung it on the hook at the top of the bathroom door and turned back to face him.

It was weird to be naked while he was still dressed, and he did not avert his eyes to give her privacy. No, he stared at her unabashedly, his eyes darting over every curve and sharp line that made up the dips and angles of her body.

Her breathing sped up as she watched him adjust himself in his trousers, knowing he was aroused and knowing it was just from looking at _her_. It made her feel powerful, because he had had so many women and so many men, yet he was here with her. He kept returning to her.

The room suddenly felt too hot, and she felt a blush creep up her chest and neck under his unwavering gaze, her lower belly warm and tingly. _How could just one look from him get her going like that?_

Following his instructions, she stretched out on the bed, her arms coming up to fold underneath the pillow where she lay her head, turning onto one cheek.

Chloe sighed, and tried to breathe evenly to calm herself down.

Lucifer stood to her other side, appreciative of the messy bun that allowed for her entire back side to be exposed to him. Stretched out before him, her supple form on display, his eyes tracked the definition of muscles on her shoulders; the lines of her shoulder blades and the dips of muscle along her upper back; the slight valley of her spine leading to the swell of her pert ass with two perfect dimples above; and further down to her long, shapely legs.

A small sound of appreciation escaped his lips before he could swallow it down, and it caused a gush of liquid heat to settle between her thighs. She knew if he were to look, he’d be able to see just how aroused she was.

She kept her head turned away from him and her eyes closed, the removal of one sense enhancing all the others and increasing her anticipation as she breathed evenly through her nose.

She heard the clatter of the bottle of massage oil as he grabbed it and moved closer to the bed.

“Can I straddle you?” he asked, voice soft, and she almost laughed at how absurd it sounded.

She hummed an affirmative and felt the bed dip as he climbed on. His knees pressed against either side of her hips, but he kept most of his weight off her; she could just feel the slightest touch of his soft slacks against the bare skin of her ass.

She wished he was naked also, so that she could feel his warm skin against hers.

His hands made wet smacking sounds as he rubbed them together to warm the oil. Then, he wrapped his fingers around her shoulders, digging his thumbs into the tight muscles at the top of her back.

A soft moan of surprise passed her lips at his unannounced touch. He expertly worked the muscles of her upper back and shoulders, loosening and smoothing the kinks and knots that had accumulated there from her stressful lifestyle.

Lucifer’s large hands on her back covered in warm, slick oil felt like heaven, and while the massage had a tremendous impact on relaxing her knotted muscles, it had the opposite effect on her nether regions.

Eventually, she stopped attempting to reign in the pleasurable noises leaving her mouth and instead focused on simply enjoying his touch.

His magic fingers—that they were, indeed—worked the knots on her neck and then down her sides, until he was pressing the heel of his palms into the center of her lower back and pushing outward until his fingers fanned out across the edges of her belly.

Her back was red-hot, her skin tingling under the pressure of his caresses, and _fuck_ was she wet.

She squirmed underneath his hips against the sheets, searching for any kind of friction, but finding none. His thighs held her firmly in place. It was sweet torture.

Pressing his hands against her lower back to support himself, he slid further down her body to straddle the backs of her thighs.

His fingers now worked the swell of her ass, this thumbs pressing into the dimples just above her cheeks.

With his new position, she knew he must be able to see just how aroused she was, the liquid heat like fire on her inner thighs.

She heard him inhale deeply, his fingers fumbling against her skin, and it was the only indication she had that touching her was also affecting him.

“Lucifer,” she breathed out, “please. I need you.”

He sucked in a shaky breath and his hands stilled. After a beat, he asked, “I thought you weren’t in the mood?” His voice was hoarse and he sounded _wrecked_.

“That was before you had your hands all over me. _Please_. Fuck me.”

She heard his shaky exhale, the sound of his zipper being undone, the rustle of fabric as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it aside, and pulled his trousers down just enough—not wanting to waste time fumbling to remove them fully.

He moaned, and she turned her head as far as she could and watched through heavy-lidded eyes as he pumped his hand up and down the length of his perfect cock, long and thick. And _so_ hard; all from touching her.

When he pressed the tip of himself into the folds of her slick pussy, she cried out, bucking into the mattress and burying her face into the pillow. “Yes,” she hissed as he rubbed himself along her slit. “Please, please, please,” she begged, rocking her hips enticingly, trying to take him in.

He entered her at the same time he lowered his body onto hers, covering the length of her back, his forearms on either side of her head, holding himself up.

They moaned together, and she finally felt complete with him deep inside her. She hadn’t known until that very moment, that that was what she’d needed after the day she’d had. _Lucifer_ was what she’d needed.

He kissed her ear and then rolled his hips, pressing against her ass and pushing her deeper into the mattress.

“You feel so tight like this,” he grunted, his lips still pressed to the shell of her ear. The warmth of his breath made her gasp, her inner muscles clenching even tighter around him.

“You feel amazing,” she whispered, because being sandwiched between his body and the mattress made the feel of him filling different somehow; like her body hugged him tighter as his body covered hers.

His lips brushed her cheek as he continued to roll his hips in long, slow thrusts. She turned her head toward him as far as she was able in an attempt to catch his lips. “Kiss me,” she requested, and his lips found hers seconds later.

The sex was unhurried, and Chloe let Lucifer do most of the work. Her upper body felt heavy and loose from his massage, and she was supposed to be relaxing anyway, so she remained pliant and lazy under him as he worked them both up, continuing his languorous pace for some time.

His weight pressing down on her was pleasant and reassuring, much like a weighted blanket, and he spoiled her with small kisses and nips along her upper back and neck.

The build-up was slow and wonderful, but eventually wasn’t enough. Chloe whimpered, feeling herself approaching the edge but needing more to fall over it.

He pulled out of her completely, and her insides protested the loss, contracting. “Lucifer,” she whined.

“Here,” he said softly, not wanting to disrupt the dreamy atmosphere they had somehow created, “bring your knees up under you.”

He helped position her into child’s pose, and she whimpered again at how exposed she was as the cool air of the room licked at her wet folds, making her shiver.

“Just like that,” he said, tracing his fingers along the bumps of her spine and then pressing a kiss to one of them.

He grabbed her hips, sinking back into her in one smooth movement. Immediately, he began to pound into her at a relentless pace; both already so close that he pushed her over the edge in minutes, and he followed seconds after; the way she felt, looked, and sounded when she came always enough to make him come undone. 

He stayed the night, curling around her as she fell into the best sleep she’d had in months.

And in the morning, hours before Dan dropped Trixie off for breakfast, and Maze stormed into the kitchen with Deputy Warden Perry Smith in tow, they fucked again—slow, and deep, and intimate.

Later in the day, when she’s thinking about him, she won’t call it love-making, even though that’s what it felt like.

After the not-love-making, they lay nose to nose and talked about her dad. It was quiet—the sun just beginning to peak over the horizon—and she opened up to him about Hawaiian bread sandwiches, camping trips, and her fears growing up with a parent on the force. And Lucifer made tears sting the corners of her eyes when he whispered that he thought her dad would be proud of her.

**. . .**

It was only a matter of time before the uncertainty got to her. They’d yet to name the thing between them, and Lucifer seemed fine with that. She hadn’t expected him to broach the subject, though.

According to him, he’d never even been in a relationship in all of his eons of existence.

So how could she expect someone like that to put aside his bachelor lifestyle, let alone know how to commit to one person?

She was afraid that if they had ‘the talk’, it would become clear that they each wanted different things—she would no longer be able to deny it to herself, and with that realization, she’d be forced to end it. She wasn’t ready to give him up just yet. Even if it meant that she settled for casual.

It wasn’t until one particular case that the bucket of her indecision finally spilled over.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Ella,” she blurted, immediately cursing herself for not holding her tongue. The look he gave her was evasive and did nothing to alleviate her jealousy. “You know, working together, I mean.”

She didn’t know if they had been spending much time together or not—she’d only seen them whispering to each other in the lab earlier in the day, but just seeing them so close, the smile creeping up Lucifer’s face at whatever Ella had said to him, had made her stomach drop.

He still refused to open up to her about his problems, even though she’d offered more times than she could count. It continued to hurt, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was confiding in Ella instead of her for some reason.

She denied it, when Dan asked if she was jealous. She couldn’t very well admit it; no one even knew she and Lucifer were, for lack of a better term, fuck-buddies.

When she walked in on the two of them hugging in his penthouse, she was going to bring it up; tell him how she was feeling, but then he had run out to go after Corinna—without her, might she add—even after she’d lectured him earlier about them following leads _together_ , because they were partners.

It wasn’t until the next morning at the precinct that Chloe was finally able to bring it up to him.

“You know,” she began, glancing around to make sure no one was listening to them. “I thought we had a real moment the other morning, talking about my dad.”

Grabbing a paper clip from her desk to fidget with, Lucifer looked at her, surprised by her seemingly random topic of conversation.

“We did, wait—is this about Ella and me? Are you jealous?” he asked. He was clearly amused by the way his eyes twinkled at her as he asked the question.

“What?” averting her eyes, she played dumb. “No. Of course not,” she shook her head, meeting his eyes again. “I have no reason to be; I mean, we’re just casual. We’re not exclusive. We’re just friends who fuck sometimes.” She paused, and then corrected herself, “ _A lot_. Friends who fuck _a lot_.

He smirked at her, looking oh so smug, and said, “I can assure you everything you saw between me and Ella was entirely work-related.”

She released a breath she didn’t know she had been holding and whispered, “Is that the truth?”

He nodded, and risked reaching out to touch her arm. She let him, leaning into his touch. “ _Always_ the truth. Point of pride for me, Detective,” he reminded her.

And she smiled, because even if it wasn’t the answer to the question she really _wanted_ to ask, but was too afraid to, it was good enough for now just to know that nothing was going on between him and Ella.

His reassurance kept her insecurities at bay for all of twelve hours.

Dan had Trixie and God only knew what Maze was up to, so the house was quiet. Under any other circumstances, she’d savor the time to herself, but now, an empty house meant no interruptions if Lucifer were to come over.

She poured herself a glass of Lucifer’s good wine and settled into the corner of the couch, tucking her feet up under her and reaching for her phone to text him.

Chloe:

_Hey, you busy?_

Lucifer:

_Never too busy for you, Detective_

Chloe:

_Wanna come over? I have the apartment to myself ;)_

Lucifer:

_I wish I could, darling, but I’m with Ella_

She nearly choked on her wine. With a racing heart and shaky fingers, she typed out her reply.

Chloe:

_I thought you said nothing was going on between you two?_

Lucifer:

_It’s all completely innocent, Detective. She’s cashing in on her end of a deal we made_

She sighed in relief. Her heart still hammered away in her chest and she _hated_ these feelings of jealousy and insecurity. It wasn’t who she was, and it wasn’t how she wanted to feel.

Was there even a way to feel secure in a relationship with Lucifer? He always had women and men hanging all over him, coming onto him, propositioning him for sex. With all that temptation, would he really be willing to hang up his bachelor hat for someone like her? Boring, work-a-holic, single-mother Chloe Decker?

And she was so far ahead of herself because they weren’t. even. together. But she wanted them to be.

She knew the adult thing to do would be to have a conversation with him about what was building between them, so that they would be on the same page. She wasn’t ready to do that either, though; she wasn’t ready to risk losing him.

Lucifer:

_Still there?_

Chloe:

_I don’t want to distract you from whatever it is you and Ella are doing_

Lucifer:

_She made me attend church with her. Please, distract away ;)_

She smiled, feeling a rush of relief at his words. She was being ridiculous. For the past few weeks, more often than not, he spent his free time with her. That didn’t leave a whole lot of time for illicit trysts with strangers.

Maybe she’d give it another week or so; see where they were at then, and then have the talk.

Chloe:

_I think I’m just gonna turn in early tonight_

Lucifer:

_Ooohh are you in your bed now? What are you wearing?_

Chloe:

_Lucifer, you can’t text things like while you’re at church!_

Lucifer:

_Trust me, Detective. My dad doesn’t give a damn about what you humans do in church_

She made her way up the stairs to her room, wondering if she felt like playing his game. She decided she just wanted to go to bed and put this day and all the jealousy and insecurity to rest. She wished he was there with her, snuggling up in the center of her bed and falling asleep wrapped up in each other.

Chloe:

_Nothing special. Just one of my ratty old t-shirts and a pair of cotton panties_

Lucifer:

_You may think it’s nothing special, but I assure you my trousers just got uncomfortably tight as I pictured those long, bare legs of yours stretched out on your sheets._

Before she could reply, another text from him came in:

_Which ratty t-shirt? The blue LAPD one with the hole in the armpit that brings out the color of your eyes?_

Somehow, in true Lucifer-fashion, unbeknownst to him, he washed away all of her doubts and uncertainties with two little texts. Because how many men in casual _whatevers_ pay attention to the outfits their partners sleep in?

She changed into that very t-shirt and climbed under the sheets, spreading out starfish-style in her big empty bed.

Chloe:

_That’s the one_

Before he could reply, she shot off another:

_I wish you were here_

Maybe she was fishing a little, but it was true, and she wanted him to know it.

She had nearly fallen asleep when her phone buzzed again on the pillow next to her.

Lucifer:

_Me too, Chloe. Sweet dreams_

When she woke early the next morning, her back was pressed against a warm, familiar chest. She stirred, and a strong arm pulled her in closer, the hand slipping underneath her t-shirt to rest against the warm skin of her belly, fingers so long they brushed the underside of her breasts.

“Lucifer?” she mumbled sleepily.

“I know you don’t like it when I let myself in,” he rumbled against her ear, “but it seemed like you wanted me here last night.”

“Mmmm, I did,” she whispered, snuggling more deeply into his embrace. Her hand slipped under her shirt where she placed it over his.

They slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Homewrecker  
> Chloe & Lucifer make the most of Lucifer's seemingly last night at Lux.


	6. Homewrecker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Lucifer make the most of his seemingly last night at Lux.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you all so much for the love on this fic! I appreciate you all so much!
> 
> Enjoy!  
> <3

The loud club music pulsed through his body, Lucifer’s heart seemingly thumping in time with the beat.

He stood at the bar, drink in hand, watching as Chloe let loose on the dance floor. It was a side of her that he rarely saw; one he wished he saw more often.

She had surprised him when she’d shown up earlier. He had fully expected her to shut his illegal party down, but instead, she’d told him to turn the music back on and had joined him for a dance.

The way she’d laughed--joyful and carefree--as he swung her around the dance floor to “Should I Stay or Should I Go?” would be a memory he’d revisit often over the span of his immortal life.

He watched her now from his spot at the bar, all awkward limbs and stilted movements. She was nowhere near as smooth or graceful as the other dancers, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

She had told him that she was on his side, and it made his heart expand in his chest. Having the Detective on his side felt…well, amazing. He didn’t really have the words to describe how it made him feel. Uplifted, maybe; like he could accomplish anything. 

Lucifer watched as her eyes searched the crowd, stopping when they landed on him a moment later. She was looking for him. His stomach flipped, because what had he done to deserve her attention? He didn’t feel at all worthy.

Chloe smiled at him from across the room, and everyone else faded away from existence—that’s how it usually went with her; when she was around, no one else even registered to him. Crooking her finger, she gestured for him to return to her.

The crowd parted for him—as they always did—as he moved towards her, his eyes never leaving hers. She was dressed in her work clothes, coming straight from the precinct, but still he found her more beautiful, more alluring, more captivating than any of the half-dressed men and women who filled his club.

“This is quite the party,” she said as he approached, raising her voice so he could hear her over the music. “You have a lot of people who really love it here.”

He nodded at her. “Yes, well…” and trailed off, feeling a little hopeless at having so little control over the fate of this place; his home. Instead, he changed the subject. “Are you having fun?”

She smiled at him, big and genuine, and nodded. “I am,” she said.

“Don’t sound so surprised, Detective!” he exclaimed cheerily. He was in his element.

Grinning, she just shook her head. “Clubbing isn’t really my thing.”

“I know, I know. You’d much prefer to be at home reading that little urchin of yours a bedtime story.”

It amazed her still how much he knew about her, and she stared at him, unblinking. How he listened to her even at times when he seemed so focused on himself.

He continued, not noticing the way she looked at him. “Well, I for one am glad you’re letting loose tonight. This may very well be one of my last nights at Lux, and there’s no one else I’d rather spend it with.”

“Really?” she asked, so softly that he had to read her lips, because he couldn’t hear her over the thumping bass.

He squinted at her, surprised that _she_ was surprised by his statement. “Of course,” he said, as if it were obvious, and maybe it was to him.

The conversation made her heart race and her breathing quicken. She wanted to kiss him; to pour all of her affection for him into it so that he’d be left with no doubts about how she felt. But that wasn’t something they did; they didn’t kiss unless they were fucking, and they certainly didn’t kiss in public.

So, instead, she pulled him closer to her, pressing her forehead to his. “Dance with me?” she breathed out against his lips.

Chloe’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, hands coming to rest on the back of his neck, where her fingernails scraped against the grain of his hair. He shivered under her touch, her dark eyes piercing into his soul, causing his belly to somersault.

Lucifer’s hands settled low, so low, on her hips as she swayed against him, and she was slightly off beat, her movements anything but fluid, but still it was the best feeling in all of creation to have her body sliding against his in the middle of the packed dance floor at Lux.

The crowd pushed in closer around them, bodies undulating and writhing to the thumping music. 

Lucifer pulled Chloe tighter to him, sliding his leg between her thighs so she could grind against it. She did, and he felt more than heard the soft moan leave her lips.

Burying her face in his neck, she continued to move against him, his hands rocking her hips helping her stay on beat. She pressed a kiss to the skin of his neck, and then sucked the spot softly.

She wasn’t usually one for such public displays, but Lucifer had that effect on her. He had a way of making her inhibitions fly right out the window. Lost deep within the crowd of moving bodies, she felt shrouded and hidden--at one with everyone else. And how could she _not_ lay claim to him, when every other person in the club had undressed him with their eyes?

How many of these people had _actually_ undressed him?

The mark she'd left on his neck was like a brand: _mine_. _Chloe’s_. _the Detective’s_.

Pressing his lips to her ear, he said in a deep, husky whisper, “There are so many things that I wished to do to you here. So many fantasies that will have to remain unfulfilled.”

Chloe shuddered at his words. She swallowed, needing to wet her suddenly dry throat. Tilting her head up to him, her voice was raspy as she asked, “Like what?”

“Mmmmm,” he rumbled against her, his hands traveling up and down her sides, taking her shirt with them. “Where do I begin?”

She pressed another kiss to his neck and felt his pulse thrumming rapidly under her lips. Her lower belly was warm and tingly.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck you in the storage room.” His soft lips brushed the shell of her ear as he spoke. “Keep the door unlocked so that at any moment someone might walk in and catch us.”

“Oh?” she managed, a bolt of heat setting fire to her core as she grinded down harder on his leg. “What else?” she breathed.

“I want to eat you out on top of my piano while everyone here watches.” His breath was hot and fast against her ear, and again arousal coursed through her, her insides coiling tightly. While public sex was not something she’d ever do—at least not out in the open for everyone to watch—the fantasy of it made her hot. Lucifer fantasized about wanting to claim her for all to see, and something about that did things to her.

He continued, “I want to press you against my bedroom window so that we can watch the night sky as I fuck you slowly from behind. I want to reenact that scene from _Hot Tub High School_ in my hot tub, and then lay you out on my balcony and fuck you underneath the stars. I want—”

“Lucifer,” she moaned, biting down hard on his pulse, her hips nearly bucking against him at his words. She licked at the bite mark, soothing the pain. “Where’s that storage room?”

He pulled his face away from hers, forcing her to look at him. Searching her eyes, he wondered if she was serious. He took in her flushed face, her wide-blown pupils, her heavy breathing. She wanted him.

Taking her hand, he tugged her off the dance floor, leading them down a hallway all the way to the last door at the end. He pulled her inside, closing the door behind them and immediately pinning her up against it. His lips connected with hers in a heated kiss, their tongues immediately finding one another.

His hands trapped hers against the door above their heads; his lips showed no sign of letting up. He was hungry for her.

“Lucifer,” she cried out. “I’m already so wet. _Please_.”

He loved how she begged him. He cupped her through her tight jeans, the material damp from her arousal. He moaned, amazed that he had this effect on her. “Can I taste you?”

“ _Please_ ,” she repeated, her hands already pushing his shoulders downward.

He kneeled before her, his fingers undoing the button and zip of her jeans easily.

Lifting her shirt, he pressed a kiss to the skin under her bellybutton, licking the same spot and then scraping his teeth along it. Her lower belly rippled under his lips, the hot coil within her tightening in anticipation.

“Lucifer,” she whined, pushing him lower.

He loved making her lose control; loved that she was desperate for him.

Sliding her jeans down, he let them pool around her shoes at her ankles. She spread her legs as wide as the material would allow, and it was just wide enough for him to work.

Lucifer pressed a kiss to her clit, almost lovingly. The bundle of nerves twitched from the attention, and her head fell back with a thunk against the storage room door.

He kept his hands at her waist, holding her up, as his tongue dove in. She mewled, writhing against the door, trying to press herself more firmly against his mouth.

His tongue felt amazing against her heated flesh as he licked at her with increasingly persistent strokes, dipping his tongue into her entrance and then spreading the liquid arousal up onto her clit.

He continued this way, pausing every few licks to flick at her clit with his tongue until finally, her fingers dug into his hair holding him in place against her clit while she moaned, “Right there, right there. Don’t stop.”

He didn’t stop, and she rutted her hips against his face as her climax rippled through her. She saw stars. He softly licked her through it, prolonging her pleasure as long as he could, until she softly pushed his head away from her.

“Mmmm. Wow,” she whispered, her legs wobbling a little as he let go of her waist to pull her pants up. He fastened the button and zipped the zipper for her, before standing.

Chloe smiled at him, looking absolutely sated and satisfied. Gorgeous.

He kissed her then, and she let his tongue lick into her mouth. She kissed him back lazily, basking for a moment in the high from her amazing orgasm.

“What’s next on your bucket list?” she asked, her fingers scraping the stubble along his jaw. She loved the way it felt against her fingertips.

“The piano?” he suggested hopefully, with a raised eyebrow.

She chuckled, shaking her head slowly back and forth. “I am _not_ having sex with you in front of all those people.”

He smirked, and she knew then that he had already known what her answer would be. He loved to tease her.

“Besides,” she continued, “You already ate me out.”

“And? I could eat you out all night if you’d let me. You taste delicious.” He hovered close to her, over her, and licked his lips.

Humming, Chloe kissed him again. When she pulled back, she rested her hands against his chest and looked up at him through her lashes. “Your bedroom window?”

“You liked that one, did you?” he teased playfully. He was delighted, though, that she was indulging in his fantasies. If this were his last night at Lux, it would be a night to remember.

Her cheeks flushed, embarrassed, but she bit her lip and nodded all the same.

His thumb pulled her lip free, and he ran the pad of it over the tender flesh. After all his kisses, her lips were fuller and poutier than usual. 

“Come on,” he said, reaching for her hand.

Their fingers interlaced, Lucifer wove them through the crowded club and toward the elevator. Her chest inflated with something like pride at the envious looks everyone shot her. Because _she_ was with Lucifer. There wasn’t a doubt in anyone’s mind what she’d be doing that night—rather, who.

They rode up in silence, their hands still clasped together. Chloe tried not to think about if it meant something. She was still ‘giving him time.’

The last time she had opened up to him, when she’d told him he made her vulnerable, he’d avoided her for weeks. So her avoidance of the topic was justified. However, things seemed different this time; he seemed different this time.

Squeezing his hand, she hoped he wouldn’t disappear again when she found the courage to tell him how she felt for him; because this time, she was in deep.

The elevator chimed as they reached the penthouse, and he let his hand slip from hers.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked, heading toward the bar.

She stopped him by grabbing his hand and pulled him back to her. “No,” she said softly. “I just want you.” Raising onto her tiptoes, she kissed his mouth, soft and slow. His hands came up to frame her face, holding it tenderly.

He hummed into the kiss, marveling at how perfectly her lips slotted against his, how the noises she made were the sweetest symphony he’d ever heard, how her body fit just right with his. She might as well have been _made_ for him.

“Bedroom?” he whispered against her lips, and she nodded.

Lucifer moved to the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the walls of his bedroom, pulling the curtains open. The sky was dark, lit with the artificial lights of the city below. The penthouse was so high that somehow the stars were still visible up above. He didn’t know if he could ever again live in a place where he couldn’t see his stars.

Turning away from the window, he reached for Chloe and drew her over to him. He leaned in to kiss her lips, but at the last second, kissed the tip of her nose instead. He loved the way it turned slightly upward at the tip, and he’d been tempted more than once to boop it with his finger.

Chloe giggled, swatting his hand away. “Lucifer!” she exclaimed, pretending to be exasperated, but her smile gave her away.

“Oh, did you think I was going to kiss you?” he teased.

Her eyes sparkled as she smiled at him. She loved it when he was lighthearted and playful with her. “I did, but now I don’t know if I want you to,” she teased back.

He pouted at her, and she pulled him close, rubbing their noses together in an Eskimo kiss.

They undressed each other slowly, the removal of each piece of clothing followed by soft nips and kisses to newly exposed skin.

They continued their playful teasing, and Chloe felt so, so happy; maybe the happiest she’d felt in a while. Because the way Lucifer had been with her all night gave her so much hope for the direction of their relationship. All the small steps he’d taken over the past few weeks seemed to bring them right here to the cusp of _something_. She felt as if they were at a turning point.

Once all of their clothing had been removed, Lucifer tugged her hair free from the tight ponytail at the base of her skull, dropping the rubber band onto the pile of fabric at their feet. His fingers wove into her soft, silky tresses, first massaging softly at her scalp, and then pulling through to the ends to smooth out the kinks and tangles, draping the golden waves over her shoulders.

His eyes were soft as they took her in like this, this thumbs tilting her jaw upward so he could meet her lips with his.

It was a rare occurrence, indeed, that he slept with the same person more than once. But every time he’d been with the Detective, it felt both new and familiar at the same time. The combination was heady. He knew what she liked, knew what would make her sigh, or moan, or come with his name on her lips; but also each time, he discovered new things about her that left him wanting more.

They kissed, the heat growing between them as his lips left hers to travel the length of her milky throat, sucking softly on the same spot she’d marked him earlier.

Chloe rolled her head to the side to give him better access as her hands caressed his back, up over his scars and then down to scrape her nails along the soft flesh of his ass.

He rumbled into her neck at the feeling, sinking his teeth into her pulse. She tugged his hips in closer against hers, craving that familiar feeling of him hard against her belly.

Trailing kisses down her neck and over her chest, Chloe arched her chest up toward his face, keeping their lower bodies pressed together. Lucifer licked at one of her nipples while he rolled the other between his fingers. Then, he took the rosy nub into his mouth and sucked, flicking his tongue over the tip.

She gasped, her fingers finding the back of his head to hold him to her. He switched to her other breast, running one hand from the small of her back down over the roundness of her bottom, giving it a little tap.

Moaning, her hips surged forward in surprise. More liquid heat joined the arousal already pooling between her lower lips.

He licked at her nipple, a finger running the length of her slit, testing her readiness for him. She bucked against him as he pressed his thumb against the sensitive nub at the top of her slit, slick with arousal.

Righting himself, he met her darkened gaze and pressed his thumb between her kiss-swollen lips. She swirled her tongue around the digit, moaning at the taste of her own arousal.

Lucifer’s hands returned to her hips, and he spun her without warning to face the window. Chloe stumbled a little, her hands smacking against the cool glass to catch herself.

Immediately, he was behind her, covering her body with his, pushing her into the cool glass. Her body jerked from the opposing sensations—the coolness against her front, his warmth against her back. His hands covered hers above their heads.

Nosing into her neck, he kissed and sucked the skin there, rolling his hips gently against the smooth skin of her ass and back, fitting himself into the dip between her cheeks.

The glass warmed under her skin, her breath fogging it. Chloe watched him in the reflection on the window, his eyes meeting hers as he used his feet to gently spread her legs.

Lucifer positioned himself, rubbing the head of his cock along the length of her pussy, and then slowly slid in, stopping when he was only half-way sheathed inside her. He pulled out and then thrust back in with shallow strokes.

He whined, teasing himself and her, as she tried to sink down on him, to take more of him inside her. But he held her hips steady and continued his teasing, pressing his nose against her cheek. He continued his shallow strokes, pushing further into her with each one.

With the next stroke, he pulled out completely, the head of his cock pressed right against her sensitive hole, and she quivered. “ _Lucifer_ ,” she pleaded. His cock twitched against her.

He pushed into her, all the way to the hilt, his body pressing hers tighter against the window as he rolled his hips. He moaned into her ear at the feel of her warm and tight around him.

“Mmmm,” she moaned, as he fucked her in a slow and steady rhythm, each thrust seeming to push deeper inside of her.

“I created them, you know,” he said against her ear, not pausing in his movements. She turned her head to find him staring up at the sky through the glass.

“The stars?” she questioned, as he filled her again and again, warming her from the inside out.

“Yes,” he grunted, picking up his pace.

“Ahh, Lucifer yes,” she moaned at the abrupt change. He bit down on her shoulder. “They’re beautiful.”

“As are you,” he said, voice thick with emotion.

He slid a hand down to rub circles on her clit as he snapped his hips, his movements growing frantic and erratic as he lost control. Neither spoke anymore, the only noises filling the room were sounds of their pleasure as Lucifer drove them closer and closer to the edge.

They came together, staring up at his stars.

**. . .**

He sat at the piano when she returned the next afternoon, with a folder in hand. She was surprised to the find the club completely empty on what he thought to be his last night at Lux.

“No one was willing to stand next to you in front of the bulldozers?” she asked as she approached him.

He laughed, but it wasn’t joyful. “No. No, I sent everybody home. I thought I’d say my goodbyes on my own.”

“Goodbyes?” she questioned, surprised that he would give up so quickly. “I thought you were gonna fight for this place?”

He sent her a thoughtful look. “Well,” he began, “it occurred to me that much as I love this place, I can always build a new one. I mean, it wasn’t the walls that made it my home.”

_Home_. He’d been spending a lot of time contemplating that word since his session with Linda earlier in the week.

Chloe nodded in understanding as she leaned over the piano. “The people.”

She had come to the same conclusion he had. “Yes. But they’ll flock to any new place I go to, so…” he trailed off with a small shrug.

“Hmmmm,” she said, almost disappointed. “Well, that makes this sort of anti-climactic,” she prefaced, grabbing the folder and joining him on the piano bench. “But, Lux has been named a heritage site by Los Angeles County.”

She held the folder open in front of him so he could see.

“Detective,” he said, his eyebrows scrunching over the bridge of his nose as he tried to make sense of what she was showing him, “is this—”

“I had a friend,” she interrupted, unable to hide her smile and wanting to explain what she’d done for him, “in City Council push it through, and I used your little history lesson as inspiration. Lux is protected now; it can’t be demolished for development.”

She was proud of herself, for being able to give him this, and happy for him, that he had a real chance now to keep his home.

Lucifer stared at the folder in awe, at a complete loss for words. No one had ever done anything like that for him. Ever. And she didn’t even expect anything in return. He simply couldn’t believe it; couldn’t understand why she’d go to the trouble for him.

“Detective… _Chloe_.” He breathed out a tiny, disbelieving laugh, and then met her eyes. “You saved my home.”

And the way she smiled at him, the way her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the club, he couldn’t help himself. He leaned in and pressed the sweetest of kisses to her lips.

Chloe opened her lips to his and allowed him to kiss her tenderly. Her shaky hand pressed against his cheek as her heart hammered in her chest, because he was kissing her. And it felt like their first kiss all over again, because even though they’d kissed countless times, it had never been like this. No, _this_ felt like a beginning.

She pulled away and her voice wobbled as she said softly through her smile, “Well, you still have to buy it back from Eleanor Bloom—I’m sure _well_ above market price—but, you can afford it.”

Lucifer’s voice broke under the weight of his own emotions as he said, “I mean, I simply don’t know what to say. I’m normally the one doing the favors, and for a price.”

She said through her smile, “Friends help each other out.”

“Right well,” he cleared his throat. “Let me at least buy you dinner tonight, to celebrate. I know this amazing steak house, and the chef’s an absolute artist in the kitchen. I mean, he’s also a degenerate gambler who owes me a favor,” he rushed out as if afraid she’d say no if he paused long enough. “Otherwise, you’ll just go home and eat one of those poisonous sandwiches you get from the vending machine at work. Come on, Detective!” he encouraged, as if she needed any convincing. “Friends help each other out.”

She couldn’t believe it. _Was he asking her out on a date?_ She stared at him wide-eyed, her grin only growing bigger across her face. She felt goofy, because she couldn’t wipe it away.

“I’d love to have dinner with you tonight, Lucifer.”

His smile matched hers. “Wonderful! Then…it’s a date,” he said tentatively, closely watching her reaction.

“It’s a date,” she confirmed softly.

**. . .**

Hours later, Lucifer sat in his dark living room, sipping his scotch as another text from the Detective pinged his phone.

Chloe:

_Are you ok?_

He wasn’t ok. And he _hated_ what he was doing to her, how he must be hurting her. But he was the _Devil_. He had been kidding himself to think that they could ever be something; that he could ever have her.

She was pure, and brilliant, and oh so good. The one bright star in the bleak millennia of his existence.

She could never accept him, and she shouldn’t have to. Because she deserved someone as good as her, and that wasn’t him.

Another ping.

Chloe:

_Fine. I’m heading home_

_Home_. He’d finally got it, what Doctor Linda had been hinting at. The Detective was his home; what he had been searching for when he came to LA, and why he would have been okay if he had lost Lux. Because of her.

He’d come to rely on her too much. When she found out the truth about him, she’d run. They always did—well, all except Linda, but her psychological training perhaps made her better able to cope. He couldn’t bear the thought of Chloe fearing him.

How could he have let himself get in so deep with her? How could he possibly let her go now that his feelings had become so strong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Chloe comes to a realization.
> 
> So classes started back up this week, but I'm gonna try real hard to get the last two chapters written and posted as quickly as I've been doing with the previous chapters...just know it might take a little longer than usual!
> 
> <3 <3


	7. Stewardess Interruptus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe comes to a realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to everyone taking the time to read, kudos, comment, or bookmark my work! It is so appreciated!!
> 
> This chapter was so fun to write and it is loooong! 6000 words!
> 
> I hope you enjoy; I think you will ;)

“Tell me everything,” was the first thing Dr. Linda said as Lucifer entered her office the following morning for his appointment.

In his usual style, he did his best to deflect and avoid; to downplay the whole date-that-never-was.

But for all of his evasions, Linda couldn’t be fooled. “You chickened out, didn’t you?”

Laughing as if she knew nothing of which she spoke, he said, “I’m the _Devil_ , Doctor. I don’t chicken out!”

He reached for the water pitcher on the coffee table, feeling uncomfortable with the direction of the session and needing something to focus his attention on that wasn’t his therapist or the current topic of discussion.

“Look,” Dr. Linda said kindly as he filled his glass. “I get it. Our last breakthrough spooked you, and now you’re running scared.”

“I’m not running scared,” he was quick to deny, but then he sighed. “I’ve just realized that the Detective and I…well, there’s no way for us to work.”

“Why do you think that?” she asked, leaning back in her chair.

“Because of who I _am_. She’ll never be able to accept it; accept _me_.”

“I did. What makes you so sure Chloe wouldn’t?”

He shook his head. “You’re different; you’re trained to deal with this sort of thing,” she scoffed, but before she could tell him there’s no training in the world that could prepare one for becoming a Celestial Insider, he continued, “and even you had a hard time with it.”

“It took me a while, yes, but I came around. Chloe is strong; she can handle it.”

He didn’t contradict her; the Detective _was_ strong.

Getting straight to the point, Dr. Linda asked, “Do you want to be with her?”

“Yes,” Lucifer answered without hesitation.

“And the only way you can _truly_ be together is to tell her the truth; _show_ her the truth so that she can’t deny it. You have to make a choice.”

“But I’m _scared_ ,” he admitted, despair dripping from his voice.

“It’s a scary thing, to let someone see your true self. But it’s necessary for relationships to work; you have to be willing to be completely honest with one another. So ask yourself this: is the risk worth the reward?”

**. . .**

After his session, he headed straight to the Detective’s apartment. On the drive, he considered Dr. Linda’s words. The Detective _was_ strong, and she seemed to care for him and have faith in him.

And _yes,_ he did want to be with her as he had never wanted to be with anyone else in his entire existence. The Devil, monogamous? The thought would have been absurd to him just a few years ago.

_Was the risk worth the reward?_

The risk was that she’d run; cut him out of her life altogether. It would break him, to never again be able to talk with her, or make her laugh, or touch her.

But the reward was that she’d be his. They’d be each other’s.

_That_ was what he desired.

“I owe you an explanation,” he started without preamble when she let him into her apartment.

“Really? Why?” she asked sarcastically, obviously furious with him. “Was it for leaving me all alone at a restaurant so the busboy could give me pitiful glances all night?” She didn’t wait for him to respond. “I know what your explanation is and, _no_ , I don’t want to know her name.”

“Actually, Detective, it wasn’t like that,” he said, hurt that she could think he would want to fuck someone else rather than have dinner with her.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked up at him expectantly, waiting.

“I chickened out,” he admitted, using Linda’s words from earlier. “There are sides to me you haven’t seen, Detective. Ugly sides, monstrous even.”

“Lucifer,” she whispered, reaching out for his hand. Suddenly her frustration toward him was replaced with a heavy sadness. She hated that he felt that way about himself. “I don’t believe that. I know who you are. You’re a good person.”

“That’s just the thing, Detective,” he said sadly. “You only know one part of me. And I want to be honest with you about who I am, but I’m afraid that if I am, you’ll never want to see me again.”

“Lucifer,” she repeated, just as softly. “I can’t even _imagine_ a scenario where I would never want to see you again.” She swallowed the lump that had grown in her throat and tugged him into a hug. “I care about you.”

Chuckling self-deprecatingly, he said, “I don’t know why,” but he hugged her back, albeit awkwardly, still not used to expressing emotion. She didn’t mind, because even if he was a bit stiff, his arms still felt perfect around her. “But, selfishly, I’m not going to try to convince you not to… and… I care for you, too, Chloe.”

She squeezed him tighter around the waist in response to his words.

“Lucifer!” Penny exclaimed as she came into the room. Chloe immediately pulled out of their embrace.

“Penelope!” he greeted her with a kiss to both of her cheeks. Turning back to Chloe, he said delighted, “I didn’t know your mother was in town.”

“Perry Smith’s trial starts today,” Chloe explained, chewing nervously on her bottom lip.

“Right,” he said. “I knew that.” He had just forgotten, because he’d been so caught up in his own issues. Mentally, he smacked himself. If we was to be good enough for the Detective, he needed to stop being so self-absorbed. “Well, we’d better be going then, hadn’t we?”

Chloe placed a hand on his forearm, “You don’t have to come with us, Lucifer. You’ll be bored.”

“Nonsense, Detective,” he replied with a reassuring smile. “I’d like to come… to support you.”

She smiled softly at him, her stomach giving a little flip, and nodded. “Okay.”

**. . .**

Lucifer Morningstar is many things, but he is _not_ a liar.

_There are sides to me you haven’t seen, Detective. Ugly sides, monstrous even._

_I got better._

_I don’t suppose “angel blood” is even a possible result from those tests._

_I created them, you know? The stars._

_I’m the Devil._

**. . .**

Chloe had an epiphany on the witness stand.

As she sat before the jury and joked about how Lucifer was qualified to be a police consultant because he used to run Hell, she began to wonder when she’d stopped questioning his Devil stories.

Because she had. She’d moved to a place of quiet acceptance.

_Was he actually the Devil?_ She still didn’t know if she truly believed that.

_But could he be?_ And it was to this question that her answer changed from a firm _no_ to a _maybe_.

After the not guilty verdict, Chloe went home. The whole day had been one roadblock after another, and even though the jury had decided not guilty for her father’s murder, Smith was still under investigation for other crimes, and she had hope he’d one day get what he deserved.

But instead of dwelling on that, her thoughts were on Lucifer.

Lucifer was not a liar; and he had always insisted that he was the Devil. Yes, it could just be a complex metaphor that served as his own personal truth, but she was beginning to think that wasn’t it.

Grabbing a piece of paper, she sat at her desk and began making a list of all the unexplainable things about Lucifer—things he’d done, things that had happened to him, everything.

What had Lucifer called it? Cognitive dissonance. The tendency for people to explain things in a way that fit with what they already believed.

She was determined to look at her list objectively, to consider Lucifer being the Devil as an actual possibility.

She’d seen him get shot multiple times by different people, and he always walked away without a scratch. Except for the time _she’d_ shot him, and he had bled. It didn’t add up; sometimes he could get hurt, while other times he seemed invincible. He’d been burned by the fire at Sol de Javier, but he’d healed impossibly fast. _Perhaps each time he’d been shot, he’d just been able to heal himself?_ He had left a puddle of blood behind when Malcolm shot him, but had had no wounds to show for it—she’d checked.

_I got better_ , he’d said.

When she had shot him, he had seemed so genuinely surprised that he’d bled. And he did have scars, his wing scars, that she had seen and touched. Yet, no scar from the burn, no scar from her bullet.

Could they really be scars from where he’d cut off actual wings? And why did cutting them off leave a scar when other injuries didn’t?

He’d also disappeared multiple times right before her eyes. At the duel he’d set up during the paparazzi case, he’d been _right in front of her_ and then suddenly was behind her. Then again, when she’d been about to arrest him for the street preacher’s murder, he’d been gone in the blink of an eye.

He was so strong, lifting adults completely off the ground. Super-human, you could say.

And the inconclusive blood test results—while those results happened sometimes, she didn’t think it was common. She’d text Ella about it.

Finally, Lucifer didn’t lie. He evaded the truth sometimes, but he had told her numerous times that he was the devil. It was possible that it was _his_ version of the truth, but that seemed too much like a lie.

And Maze always backed him up; their stories always aligned—neither ever slipped up. Neither ever mentioned anything from before six years ago, unless they were talking about Hell. Nothing about either of them even existed prior to six years ago—no records, nothing. _How could they both be so good at keeping up the act, if it was really just an act?_

As she wrote, Chloe’s heartrate increased. Was she actually convincing herself that her immature partner, the person that drove her crazy with his innuendos and fear of commitment, but also the person who surprised her constantly with his thoughtfulness, was the honest-to-God Devil?

Quickly she pulled her phone from her back pocket and typed a text to Ella.

Chloe:

_How common are inconclusive blood results?_

Ella:

_It depends on the sample. More likely if there was time or opportunity for it to be contaminated_

Chloe:

_It was collected almost immediately after the victim was shot. Protocol was followed to a T._

Ella:

_Super rare, then. Like it could happen, but it would be very unlikely_

Chloe let her phone drop onto the coffee table with a thunk. Fear coursed through her body in the form of a chill, goosebumps raising the hairs on her arms.

Lucifer was the Devil. She believed him.

She breathed slowly, doing her best to remain calm as she repeated that same sentence over and over again in her head. _It’s all true_. _It’s all true_.

She sat for hours, going over every little detail that supported her conclusion. She felt scared, not knowing what his motives were for working with her, for getting close to her. She felt small, knowing that God and Heaven and Hell existed.

Her phone buzzed on the table. Picking it up, she saw that she had a text from Lucifer. _Could he read her mind? Did he know that she had just put it all together?_

Lucifer:

_I’m so sorry about the outcome of the case, Detective. If it’s any consolation, I'm positive that someday he will get the punishment he deserves._

Yeah, in Hell. Chloe didn’t know if that made her feel better or not.

Another text came through.

Lucifer:

_I hope you’re not beating yourself up. I meant what I said on the stand. You’re a fine detective, the finest really, and I believe your dad would be very proud._

She read his words, and her fear ebbed. This was Lucifer, _her_ Lucifer.

She’d known him for nearly two years now. He wasn’t evil or manipulative or a liar. Religion and history had it all wrong.

He was kind and thoughtful and he _cared_ about her. He’d been hurt and rejected by his own father, his own family, punished for eons, and yeah, he was a little messed up from it, but who wouldn’t be?

He had created the stars and kissed her when she saved his home. He had saved her life more than once, had been there for her when she needed him, and lately when they fucked it felt more like making love.

Because she _loved_ him. The Devil. And he felt unworthy of her.

She needed to see him. She wanted to tell him that she believed him, that she knew who he truly was, and she wasn’t running.

She wasn’t going anywhere.

**. . .**

When the penthouse elevator chimed, the doors opening in tandem, Chloe was a woman on a mission as she charged through them, practically colliding with Lucifer as she did so.

“Oh, hey! Sorry, I—”

“Detective. What are you doing here?”

They spoke at the same time, over one another.

Chloe chuckled a little, and then frowned, taking him in. “Are you on your way out?” she asked softly, confused as to where he’d be off to with a bottle of wine and brown paper sack. Suddenly, she felt nervous again, questioning what they were to one another. Was he going to meet up with someone else?

“I am, yes,” he said, and her frown deepened. “To see you, actually.”

Relief swelled in her chest. “Oh.” She couldn’t suppress the small smile that stretched her lips.

Lucifer held up the paper sack and bottle of wine and continued, “I believe I owe you dinner.”

“Oh.” With her smile still in place, she nodded. “I believe you do.”

He smiled back at her with such a soft look in his eyes and for a moment, nothing else existed. Not Chloe’s recent revelation, nor her insecurities about Lucifer’s feelings or his ability to commit; not Lucifer’s fears over Chloe’s mortality, nor the inevitability that she’d run when she found out who he really was.

There was only them: Chloe and Lucifer.

Lucifer finally cleared his throat nervously. “Would you like to eat on the balcony? It’s such a nice night; the sky is so clear.”

“All the better to see your stars,” Chloe murmured.

He hummed in agreement, but gave her a funny look. “Right, well… this way.”

He set the food and bottle of wine on the table, and then pulled out her chair for her. He flitted around, six feet of nervous energy, lighting the fireplace and going in search of some candles. Placing them in the center of the table, he lit them, and then left again to grab wine glasses and plates from his bar.

“Am I forgetting anything?” he asked when he returned, placing a plate down in front of her.

“Lucifer, sit,” she giggled, and she couldn’t believe that they were finally here, on their first date. He was nervous, and it was adorable. “We’ve got everything we need,” she said, the double meaning behind her statement not lost on either of them.

They laughed when he overfilled her wine glass, and he joked with her about reservations and making the fries.

Chloe felt light and giddy, giggling into her glass. He was so easy to be with, they were so comfortable around each other. It felt so natural.

Even though he was the Devil.

She almost couldn’t believe the incongruence. There she was, staring the Devil down, feeling anything but fear or terror. She felt safe, and cared for, and filled to the brim with so much affection for him.

Her partner.

“Detective,” he sighed, leaning around the small table to put himself closer to her. “What you said today in the courtroom…” he trailed off, not knowing how to ask the question that had been taking up so much space in his mind.

But he didn’t have to, because she knew him. “…was the truth,” she finished for him, softly but firmly, placing her hand on his.

Her words sank in as he played with her fingers, caressing them, and sliding his against and in between hers.

“Chloe,” he breathed, meeting her eyes. Their eyes locked, and his heart pounded under the weight of the moment, the tension in the air. He still felt as though he didn’t deserve her, but maybe he could be better for her. She made him want to be a better person.

She rubbed her thumb across his knuckles as she leaned in closer to him. Her eyes dipped down to his lips as she tilted her face up to his, like a sunflower growing in the direction of the sun.

Finally, his lips met hers, and electricity crackled between them. How was it that every kiss with her felt like the first; felt new and exciting and different?

She inhaled shakily against his lips, and he knew she felt it too.

He brought his hand to her face, his thumb pressing gently on her chin, opening her mouth to him. She hummed at the invasion, his warm tongue darting in to taste hers.

Chloe licked at his upper lip, her burger forgotten and chilling in the night air.

Her feelings overwhelmed her, her heart stuttering in her chest at the gentle way his fingers caressed her cheek, and she felt proud of how far they had come.

“Do you remember what you said you wanted to do to me out here?” she whispered, looking up at him with dark eyes, her stomach flipping at the memory of his words, spoken against her ear as they pressed tightly together on the dance floor of Lux.

He swallowed audibly. “I do.”

He reached for her again, his hands—

The chime of the elevator interrupted them. “Lucifer!”

Chloe quickly pulled away from him, the unfamiliar, distinctly feminine voice making her stomach churn.

“This is your flight attendant speaking. Please buckle up,” the woman, young, and fit, and sexy, sauntered into the penthouse with a suitcase trailing behind her. _What the--?_

“Jana?” Lucifer sounded surprised, but he obviously knew her. Probably intimately.

There was something about staring your biggest fear directly in the face that made everything clear—Chloe felt as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped directly over her head.

She stood up from the table, shaking and shivering. “I didn’t know you were expecting company,” she said, almost accusatory even though he seemed just as surprised as she was.

“I wasn’t…Chloe, I—”

Jana continued talking in the background, stripping out of her clothes. Chloe stared at her in disbelief. _This was Lucifer’s life._

Tears pricked her eyes, and she swallowed them down. She was already emotionally charged from all the events of the day—the trial, her realization about Lucifer’s truth, their date—and now, her worst nightmare seemed to be coming true.

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice wobbly. Her eyes were watery with tears she refused to shed in front of him. She moved quickly toward the elevator, needing to get out of there.

Lucifer followed closely behind her. “Wait, no. Detective,” he pleaded, grabbing her arm to halt her. “I had no idea that Jana was coming over.”

“It’s okay,” she said softly, not meeting his eyes. She felt so stupid. “I’ll let you two catch up.”

He persisted, “Detective, _please_ , come on.” He tried to get her to meet his eyes. “I mean, we were… we were having a moment. Please, don’t go.”

_This was who he was._

Chloe shook her head, backing into the elevator. “This was a mistake.”

His face fell as the doors to the elevator closed, obstructing her from view, the elevator taking her away from him.

**. . .**

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Chloe said as she approached him. It was late evening the next day. Lucifer stood facing away from her on the beach, looking out at the ocean. “I tracked your phone’s GPS.”

It had been some day.

After Jana’s murder, they’d had to interview all of the people Lucifer had been intimate with over the past eight weeks—all ten of them. From his perspective, it had been a slow couple of months.

It hurt at first, to know that he had been fucking other people while, in Chloe’s mind, they’d been making love. With each interview, she felt as though every single one of his lovers took a turn tearing out her heart and stomping on it.

The way they described being with him, it was all so much more creative than when she and Lucifer had sex. _Was he bored by her?_

It was actually Charlotte Richards, of all people, who made her think about things differently. Charlotte had told her she was different; that Lucifer was different around her. And Chloe realized she was right, because Lucifer hadn’t bought any of the people she’d interviewed dinner. He didn’t seem to have emotional intimacy with any of them at all. It was just meaningless sex to them.

_You make me feel something different_ , he had told her once.

She knew it was time to have the talk.

“Well, here I am,” he replied, barely turning to look at her.

She could tell he was in a mood so, smiling, she tried to coax him out of it by teasing, “Well, we should wrap up the arrest report. And by that I mean paperwork, not some celebratory drink that you’ll then turn into a moment.”

“Yes, well,” he began seriously, not taking her bait, “I’ve changed my mind about that, actually. I’ve realized that it would never work out between us.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised. Her heart dropped into the roiling sea that was her stomach.

Nodding resolutely, he confirmed, “Yes. So from now on, no more sleeping together and no more attempts at moments. I’d be honored to simply continue working by your side. If you’ll have me.”

“Of course,” she replied, but she was confused.

“Good.”

She continued, “It’s not like you to give up.” Why _was_ he giving up? She wanted him to fight for her, for them.

“No,” he corrected, “I haven’t given up. I had an epiphany of sorts. You deserve someone worthy of you. I tried to be that person, but that’s not me.”

Shaking her head emphatically, her voice broke as she said, “That’s not what I’ve been saying, Lucifer.”

“I know. That’s what _I’m_ saying. You deserve someone better. Because you, Detective, are selfless to a nauseating degree. You always put your daughter first, even though the ungrateful urchin does nothing to contribute to the rent.” Chloe couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “So… you deserve someone worthy of that grace. Someone who knows that every crime scene breaks your heart, even though you’d never admit it. Someone who actually appreciates your impossibly boring middle name, _Jane_. And more importantly Detective, you deserve someone as good as you. Because, well, you’re special and I’m… I’m not worth it.”

Her heart raced in her chest at his impromptu speech. It wasn’t an “I love you” but was close to it.

“Isn’t that for me to decide?” she asked softly.

Lucifer looked down at her, his eyes a storm of emotions as he tried to understand her. He was telling her he wasn’t worthy of her; how could she possibly feel differently?

She reached her hand up to cup his cheek, guiding his face down to hers so she could kiss him. It was chaste, her lips soft and sweet and reassuring against his.

“How can you think you’re not worth it?” she asked when she pulled away. “You make me feel so special; no one has ever made me feel as special as you do. You believe in me, in my abilities and in my instincts, and you support me no matter what. You’re always there for me when I need you; you _always_ have my back. There’s no one I trust more than you to keep me and Trixie safe.”

She could tell he was blown away by her words, caught completely off-guard, by the way he stared at her with undisguised wonder and awe as he let the words settle in his chest, warming him.

And it was that look that finally gave her the courage to make her desires clear to him. “I want to be with you, Lucifer. I want to be in a real relationship, where we’re committed to each other, and I don’t have to be jealous or worry about you sleeping with anyone else, because you’re not—because you only want to be with me.”

Chloe swallowed, her heart thumping rapidly in her chest as she waited. What he said next would determine the direction of their partnership.

His eyes darted all over her face as a smile tugged at his lips. His fingers brushed the wisps of her hair back behind her ear as the wind tried to pull them free once more.

“Chloe,” he breathed softly, “you _are_ the only one I want. You’re everything.”

His lips found hers, and she hugged him close, pressing her body tightly to his. His arms wound around her back, her shoulders, holding her to him. He sighed into her mouth as he tasted the saltiness from a tear that had slipped down her cheek. Breaking the kiss, he whispered against her lips, “I want no one else.”

As he kissed her lips, each of her cheeks, and her nose, she felt happiness bubble up inside of her and spill out in the form of giddy laughter and happy tears.

“Chloe,” he said, needing her to know something. “Those ten people you interviewed today, they were before we started having sex again. I haven’t been with anyone else while we’ve been together. I haven't wanted anyone else.”

Feeling reassured, she kissed him again, her fingers tangling into his hair. It heated quickly, and she was intense as she tried to show him just how much he meant to her, just how much she felt for him.

Her fingers twisted in the longer hair at the top of his head, tugging him to the angle she wanted him. Her tongue licked hotly against his, and she moaned into his mouth as his warm hands slipped under her shirt and up her back.

She bit softly into his bottom lip before whispering against his mouth, “Take me back to your place.”

As Lucifer drove, Chloe’s fingers traced patterns on his upper thigh, and he sent her looks with dark, dark eyes. “I’m going to ravish you,” he said, his voice so deep it made her insides clench; liquid heat pulsing steadily to the spot between her legs where she craved him most.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him, her fingers traveling higher up his thigh.

He parked in his usual spot, and then was out the door so fast she had barely blinked before her door was opening too, and he was tugging her out of the car.

Reminded suddenly of who he was, she realized this would be the first time they were intimate while she _knew_. It made her hot, to know that the Devil, this ultra-powerful being, yearned for her.

And at the same time, he was just Lucifer. Her best friend and partner; and now, something more.

Lucifer lifted her against the side of the car, her butt coming to rest on the door of his convertible, her legs wrapping immediately around his as he bent down to kiss her passionately. His hot tongue plunged between her lips, seeking hers, exploring every inch of the inside of her mouth.

Her fingers found his belt loops, tugging him closer to her, trying to remove any space that existed between their bodies.

His hands were on her face and in her hair, tugging at the hair-tie that kept her long blonde locks neatly wound in a professional bun. He flung it somewhere, her hair falling in loose, messy waves down her back and over her shoulders.

Tugging at the strands, he tipped her head back further so that her face pointed skyward as his hovered directly above hers, his lips leaving hers for only seconds at a time to gasp for air.

Chloe pushed at him, panting. “Upstairs, now.”

One of his hands found her ass while the other gripped the underside of one of her thighs, and he hoisted her easily against him, her legs tightening around his waist.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, one hand stretching down the length of his back to scratch lightly at the scars underneath the layers of his shirt and jacket, the other holding the back of his head, dragging his lips back to hers. He carried her to the elevator gracefully, not stumbling even once.

Once inside, he slammed her against the back wall of the elevator, his hand leaving her ass to flail behind him searching for the button to take them to the penthouse.

The doors closed, and the elevator ascended. Lucifer’s hand returned to palm her ass, supporting her weight, as he grinded against her center.

Tearing her lips from his to throw her head back, Chloe's mouth dropped open as she exhaled moan after moan at the feeling of him rutting against her.

He stared; she looked thoroughly debauched. And she was _his_.

The doors opened with a ding, and he swung her around, carrying her straight to his bed. She had to laugh against his mouth at the urgency of it all—he was a man on a mission.

“Slow down,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as she slid down his body to stand on her own.

His eyes softened as he looked into hers, clear and such a beautiful shade of blue. “I just don’t want you to change your mind about us.”

Chloe kissed him again, humming against his lips. “I’m not going to change my mind. I’m yours.”

“Mine,” Lucifer repeated, amazed that it could be true. His fingers traced over her cheek and jaw. He pressed a kiss to the beauty mark beneath her eye.

“Yours,” she confirmed with a nod, tilting her head up to him.

He acquiesced to her unspoken request, leaning down to kiss her slowly. His tongue traced her full bottom lip, and she opened up to him, the heat slowly building between them.

Taking their time now, they undressed each other, savoring the sight of smooth skin and the small sounds of appreciation and pleasure as fingers and mouths began new and familiar paths of exploration.

When finally they stood naked before one another, Lucifer drew Chloe to him, hugging her close. Her face fitted against his neck, where she pressed little kisses to his skin, while his cheek rested against the top of her head.

His arms completely engulfed her, long fingers skimming the dip of her hip and the side of her breast. Her wrists crossed at his lower back, her fingers splaying against the curve of his ass.

“I love the way you feel against me,” he confessed, his voice rumbling through her.

She hummed in agreement, rubbing her nose along the tendon in his neck, and then licking at his pulse point, sucking the skin between her teeth.

Pulling her head away from his neck, she met his gaze, her pupils blown and her eyes hooded. “Lucifer,” she breathed, shifting her hips against his, “take me to bed.”

They made love that night, and Chloe didn’t try to convince herself otherwise.

Lucifer watched her as he lay her back on his sheets, her hair fanning out all around her head. A makeshift halo, and he thought no one was more deserving of one than she.

He covered her, hiking her leg up against his hip as he plunged into her welcoming body. She was warm and wet; the perfect fit for him. She was home.

Chloe held his face to hers, keeping them nose-to-nose as he set his pace, thrusting into her again and again. They kissed intermittently, breathing the same air, moaning into the same space, and she liked being this close to him as he brought her closer and closer to ecstasy.

She came with him inside her, thinking of how much she loved him and how all of her dreams finally seemed to be coming true.

Once she had recovered from her orgasm, she opened her eyes to find him watching her. He was still hard and thrusting into her with soft, shallow strokes.

Chloe smiled at him, and he pressed a soft kiss to her mouth. “You are so beautiful,” he said, causing her cheeks to blush.

She pushed at his chest, saying, “Flip over,” as she used her hips to help him do so. Rolling easily onto his back, he splayed out and gazed up at her, entirely at her mercy.

Following him, Chloe immediately slid back onto his cock. He bucked up into her, moaning. She sat back on her hips, and he bent his legs at the knees to support her. Tracing her hands from his chest down to his abs, she rolled her hips against him, riding him.

Lucifer’s eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of her moving on top of him, lifting herself just to sink back down, rocking her hips against him with each downward movement. He forced his eyes open, wanting to see her.

Her hands left his abs to hold his knees instead. Her back arched, and his eyes followed up the long line down the center of the her flat stomach, her breasts bouncing as she moved over him, perfect and round, each topped with a taut little nipple.

She watched him through heavy-lidded eyes. His fingers traced up her firm stomach to cover each breast, her movements pressing them into his palms as he squeezed. She moaned his name, throwing her head back, and he’d had enough of the indulgent pace.

Lucifer flipped Chloe onto her back, and she yelped in surprise. He plunged into her, increasing their pace, as he tilted her hips up toward his, giving him a better angle. She wrapped her legs tightly around him, her heels digging in and keeping them close as he drove into her.

She cried out, feeling another orgasm building rapidly, the angle of his thrusts hitting that perfect spot within her each time. And then, she was tumbling, again, over the edge, and this time he was right there with her, calling her name as he released inside her.

He rolled off her, not wanting to crush her, but immediately pulled her into his side. Chloe's fingers splayed over his chest, feeling his racing heart as her breathing calmed.

“I’m yours, too, you know,” Lucifer said as his fingers traced up and down the soft skin of her arm. “I was so caught up in you being mine that I forgot to tell you.”

He felt her lips curl into a smile against his chest. She pressed a kiss to him and said, “I know you are.”

His fingers continued to draw up and down her arm as they calmed and settled. “I’ve never been in a relationship before,” he confessed. “I might not be good at it.”

“We’ll work on it together,” she promised. “But I think you’ll do fine. Just promise me you’ll talk to me, tell me what you’re feeling. As long as you’re honest with me, we’ll be okay.”

She yawned; sleep quickly overcoming her as she settled into the warmth of his body.

But her words kept Lucifer up for hours. He needed to be honest with her—and that meant showing her who he truly was.

He just hoped being honest with her wouldn’t lead to him losing her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Chloe gets poisoned and Lucifer goes to Hell.
> 
> I'm going to be so sad to see this fic end, but I have a couple of other ideas brewing. If you have any prompts or ideas that you'd like me to write, please let me know :)
> 
> I hope you all liked this one <3


	8. A Good Day to Die Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to the be the last but it was turning into such a whopper I decided to split it into two parts! This first part is already nearly 6000 words -- the scenes got away from me lol
> 
> Thank you so much for all the feedback & support so far!! I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> <3

“That smells wonderful, Detective,” Lucifer praised, coming up behind Chloe to slip his arms around her waist and pressing his front to her back.

She stood facing the stove, stirring her homemade pasta sauce, but paused to lean back into his embrace. His arms tightened around her and she sighed happily, turning her head to nuzzle gently into his neck. 

“It’s my dad’s recipe,” Chloe said softly, “and he learned it from his mom, my Nana.”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I can’t wait to taste it, darling.”

He rocked her a little from side to side, and it wasn’t long before his hands and lips began to wander across her soft skin.

“Lucifer,” she gasped as he sucked on her pulse point, biting down on it softly.

“I can’t wait to taste you, either,” he said flirtatiously, his lips brushing against the smooth skin of her neck as he spoke. His fingers slipped underneath the hem of her shirt and traced patterns on her belly. “It’s all I could think about today.”

She hummed, his stubble scraping deliciously against the sensitive column of her throat, and her head fell back onto his shoulder.

She had wanted him all day, too. Now that they were finally on the same page, his usual flirtations hit different. She’d even felt tempted to pull him into the stacks and make out with him in the middle of the campus library—in the middle of a case!

Lucifer thumbed open the button of her jeans and then unzipped them, allowing enough space for his hand to slip inside. He cupped her over her cotton panties, felt her warmth through the thin fabric.

She thrust her hips forward as he lightly traced her seam with one finger. Then, he slid his finger inside her panties and dipped it into the hot arousal that had come to rest between her lower lips. She squirmed against him as he ran his finger along the length of her slit.

“When will the little gremlin be home?” he asked against her ear, breathing hotly on her earlobe and then nibbling it.

Chloe’s eyes fluttered open, and she glanced at the clock above the stove. “Any minute now. We should stop,” she said, even though stopping was the last thing she wanted to do. Her belly was warm and tingly from Lucifer’s affection, and she’d begun to feel that insistent ache between her thighs.

He hummed, kissing the shell of her ear and then removed his hand from her pants. He slipped the slick digit in between his lips and sucked, making noises of appreciation as he tasted her. Then, his fingers returned to the front of her jeans where he zipped and buttoned them up for her.

“Later,” she promised breathlessly, turning her head to smile at him as she picked up her discarded spoon and continued to stir the sauce.

“Later,” he echoed, his voice full of promises, and gently smacked her ass as he stepped away from her.

“Hey!” she exclaimed with a giggle, shooing him away with a playful look. The impish smile he gave her in return made her insides twist in the best possible way.

Lucifer had wanted to cook for Chloe, but she had insisted on making this recipe for him. One of her dad’s favorites. She always told him he made her feel special, but no one ever cooked for him simply because they wanted to. She made _him_ feel special, too.

The door banged open a mere few minutes later, Trixie charging in with Maze trailing more slowly behind her.

“Lucifer!” the little urchin squealed, immediately throwing herself at his legs.

“Oh… hello, offspring,” the man under attack said stiltedly, patting the dark little head at his hip and shooting the Detective a pleading look. Maze stood off to the side wearing an amused smirk as she watched the scene unfold.

“Trixie,” Chloe called, saving him. “Come give Mommy a hug.”

The child unlatched herself from his legs to dart over to her mother, who bent down to give her a hug and a kiss.

“Wanna know what we’re having for dinner?” Chloe asked.

“What? What?” the child asked as she bounced excitedly on her toes. Chloe hoisted the girl onto her hip so she could see the sauce simmering on the stovetop. “Grampa’s spaghetti and meatballs?”

“Mm hmm,” Chloe confirmed, setting her back onto the floor. “So you better go and get washed up!”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Lucifer asked, fidgeting, as Trixie rushed off to the bathroom. He was unused to being idle while things were done for him. It should have surprised her, him being a king and all, but it didn’t. Lucifer wasn’t one to be served, he liked doing things _for_ people.

Chloe placed her hand on his forearm, smiling at him as she squeezed it gently. “Will you get the plates down for Trix so she can set the table when she comes back?”

“Of course,” he replied, his eyes dipping down to her upturned lips.

Furtively glancing over his shoulder, Chloe noted that Maze had disappeared into her room and that Trixie was still washing up. She raised herself onto her tiptoes and pressed a soft, yet brief, kiss to his lips.

“What was that for?” he asked, and she could have sworn his eyes sparkled.

She smiled and shrugged. “I’m just happy you’re here.”

His smile grew, amazed that just his presence made her happy.

“Mommy?” Trixie asked as she came around the corner. “Is Lucifer staying for dinner?”

“Mm hmm,” Chloe hummed.

“Cool!” And it made Chloe feel warm and fuzzy inside that her daughter loved having Lucifer around, too.

“Lucifer’s gonna help you set the table, okay babe?” Chloe raised her brow at Lucifer in question as if to say, _is that alright?_

He nodded and grabbed the plates from the countertop. “This way, urchin,” he said, ushering her toward the table. Trixie giggled at the nickname.

“Have you ever tried Grampa’s spaghetti, Lucifer?” she asked as Lucifer hovered over her, adjusting her crooked place settings.

“Not yet,” was his curt reply. He struggled to relate to the tiny creature; there were very few children in Hell.

“It’s so yummy!” Trixie exclaimed, and he appreciated that she didn’t seem to notice nor mind his lack of enthusiasm for conversing with her.

Chloe listened to the two of them chatter as she tossed the spaghetti and the sauce together in a large serving bowl and then dumped the meatballs on top.

“Maze,” Chloe called into the other room, “Are you gonna eat with us?”

Maze appeared in her doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed. “I could eat.”

During dinner, Trixie prattled on about her day, and Maze shot knowing looks between Lucifer and Chloe. Chloe wasn’t necessarily hiding her relationship with Lucifer, but she didn’t know how to tell her friends about them. Also, everything was just so new between them, and Lucifer was such a wild card when it came to commitment and relationships—she didn’t know if she was ready to shout it from the rooftops yet; not if he might hurt her.

Lucifer offered to do the dishes, while Chloe helped Trixie with her homework. The whole evening was utterly domestic and boring, but Chloe’s stomach fluttered as she glanced over at Lucifer standing at her sink, sleeves unbuttoned and rolled to the elbows as he hummed to himself while he worked.

This could be her new normal, and she yearned for it.

Afterward, Maze agreed to watch Trixie for a few hours while Lucifer and Chloe went to a frat party to search for Ashley Corbett.

“Are you re-thinking things?” Chloe asked later that night, only partly joking. It was late when they’d returned, and she’d just checked in on Trixie before creeping up to her room and closing the door softly behind her. Lucifer sat on the edge of her bed waiting for her. “Was dinner tonight too much? Too boring? Did it cramp your style?” she joked, but truly wanted to know how he was feeling.

“No,” he said softly with a small chuckle, reaching for her. She stepped into his arms, and he pulled her to him, his arms snaking around her waist, his cheek resting against her chest. He listened as her heart thumped steadily under his ear. “It was nice to feel like part of a family again.”

Chloe ran her fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. “You are part of our family, Lucifer. Maze, too.”

He let his hands move down to her ass, spreading his fingers over her cheeks and pulling her in closer to him. He nuzzled his face into her breast, kissing the spot above her heart over the fabric of her shirt.

“I still don’t get it,” he said, voice laced with bewilderment. “Why you want _me_.”

Gently, she tilted his head to make him look up at her. His blunt nails scratched trails up and down the curve of her butt, through the thick fabric of her jeans. “You know,” she began, “when I saw you going upstairs with all those girls at the party, I felt jealous.”

He froze. “But Detective—”

“No, please, let me finish,” she interjected, pressing a finger to his lips. He kissed it before she could pull it away. Tracing his lips with her thumb, she continued, “It’s something I have to work on; these feelings of jealousy. You’ve been with so many people, have so many others who desire you; it’s hard for me to wrap my head around you wanting to give them all up just to be with me.”

“I do, though,” he said earnestly, tugging her onto his lap. She went freely, wrapping her legs around his back and her arms around his neck.

“I know,” she said, her forehead against his. “I had no reason to be jealous; you weren’t interested in any of them. And when I went upstairs to confront you, it turned out you’d just been telling them about me.”

He nodded, smiling, “I was.”

“Well, that’s why I want you. One of the reasons, anyway.” Her fingers threaded into his hair, and she was reminded of the dream she’d had the night before while she slept in his bed; she and Lucifer in nearly this exact position, only he’d had devil horns—his love handles, he’d called them in the dream. She wondered if he had any devilish characteristics that were hidden from her, or if he always just looked like her Lucifer.

“Oh.” Lucifer said, and she could tell he was contemplating her words.

“You make me so happy, Lucifer. And even though I was jealous, I knew you wouldn’t hurt me. I trust you. Isn’t that enough?”

Lucifer tightened his hold on her, keeping one hand firmly on her ass and moving the other up her back to brace her as he rolled them onto the bed, pinning her underneath him.

“Lucifer!” she laughed, big and exuberant, surprised by his sudden maneuver. She settled onto the bed and pulled him more fully on top of her, her laughter fading into soft giggles as they gazed at each other.

“You drove me absolutely mad today,” he said huskily, his tone playfully reprimanding. His head dipped down to close the gap between their lips.

“Oh?” she asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a smirk to match.

He hummed affirmatively, rubbing his nose against hers. “It took every ounce of my willpower to keep from dragging you into an empty closest and having my wicked way with you.”

Chloe slipped her hand down the front of his slacks to palm at him through his trousers. “There’s nothing stopping you from having your way with me now,” she pointed out.

“Naughty, Detective,” he teased and pressed himself into her hand. They kissed heatedly, her tongue slipping in between his lips to slide against his as her hand tightened around his firm cock.

She kissed him thoroughly, rocking her hips against his thigh as her fingers deftly undid his trousers. Her hand slipped inside, squeezing the base of his thick appendage and pumping her hand a few times up and down the length of his silky-smooth shaft.

She loved how hard, yet soft he felt in her hand. Her thumb brushed over his tip, and he groaned into her mouth.

“Chloe,” he managed, his hips rutting against her. She loved the sight of him losing control; it was rare for her to see him so untethered. “I need you now. How do you want me?”

Kissing his mouth softly, she said, “I want you close. Just like this.” And she hoped her choice of position wouldn’t bore him. The truth was, she didn’t need fancy moves or creative positions or an abundance of sex toys to find pleasure with him in bed. She just needed him.

She helped him out of his pants and shirt, her own clothes following quickly.

Once fully naked, she pulled him back down on top of her, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, holding him close to her; cocooning him. She felt an overwhelming protectiveness over him, a desire to shield him from eons of painful memories, from the hateful views humanity had of him, from his father’s disapproval and unjust punishment. 

Chloe kissed him lovingly, soft and slow and undemanding, a promise and an assurance of her feelings for him. One day she’d tell him she loved him, after she’d convinced him he was worthy of it, and when he was ready to hear those words from her, she wouldn’t disappoint him.

When he penetrated her, she cried out against his lips. His eyes, watching hers intently, darkened with lust and arousal and something else, something _more_.

“Lucifer,” she gasped, as he pulled nearly all the way out of her only to plunge back in.

He sighed against her lips, his eyes fluttering closed as he murmured, “I love the way you say my name.” He’d never heard it spoken before with such reverence, with such care.

“Lucifer,” she repeated, and he snapped his hips again, sinking into her, warm, wet, and welcoming.

“Nothing in Heaven nor on earth feels as amazing as being inside you,” he told her earnestly.

She clenched around him, her eyes pricking slightly at his words. Her fingers found his face and caressed it softly, as she tipped her head up to kiss his chin.

Her hips met his for every thrust, his body enveloping every inch of hers. The skin on skin contact, the perfect way he drove into her, his fingers rubbing circles on her clit, had her spiraling in minutes, while Lucifer lost total control of himself, pounding into her erratically as they came together.

She held him in a tight embrace, not letting him roll off her just yet, enjoying the way his comforting weight pressed her into the soft mattress as they breathed against the other’s neck.

“Chloe,” he whispered amused, as he tried to roll off her, but she held him still. “I’m crushing you, darling.”

“Feels nice,” she murmured against his neck, punctuating her statement with a kiss. “Safe.”

Eventually, she loosened her hold on him, allowing him to roll to the side. He immediately drew her into his chest, spooning her, his arm holding her around her waist while his leg fitted in between hers. “I’ll always keep you safe, Chloe,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of her ear.

She hummed, nuzzling her cheek against the arm he’d slid under her head. He pressed himself closer to her, feeling as though he couldn’t get close enough, and kissed the scar on her shoulder—the one that served as a constant reminder to him of her mortality. 

Sighing, she settled into his arms, feeling warm and comfortable and safe, and whispered, “Goodnight, Lucifer.”

“Goodnight, my darling,” was his whispered reply.

**. . .**

Lucifer drove like a demon on the loose from Hell, weaving in and out of traffic on his way to Chloe’s apartment. He needed to see her; needed to know if she had known all along that his father had put her in his path; that she was a miracle. _His father’s_ miracle.

The thought of it being true was shattering his heart.

He had finally begun to believe it, that he and Chloe were _real_. They’d had such a perfect moment that afternoon after Chloe had chased down professor Carlisle.

She had seemed _so_ worried about him, her relief as she hugged him palpable, and he’d never had that before. Someone to worry over his safety.

She’d reassured him that it was real; that _they_ were real.

_Had she known all this time? Was she conspiring with his Father?_

“Detective! I need to talk to you!” he yelled urgently as he barged into her apartment. “Detective!”

The living room was dark, so he rushed up the stairs to her bedroom, finding her in the adjoining bathroom.

“Did you know?” he asked, clearly distressed, and she turned to face him at her sink, toothbrush still in her mouth. She looked puzzled, so he continued, demanding, “Huh? This whole bloody time, did you know?”

“What?” she asked around her toothbrush, before removing it and spitting into the sink. “Lucifer what are you—” and then realization dawned on her face, and he felt his heart plummet into his stomach.

Seeing the look of pure panic in his eyes, she held her hands out in a placating motion. “Yes, I know. I was going to tell you, but I was waiting for the right time.”

He frowned at her, feeling completely betrayed by the one person he trusted most. “How could you work with him? How could you do that to me—to _me_?!”

Confusion tugged at her brows. “Wait. What are you talking about?”

He paused, taking in her confusion. “What are _you_ talking about?”

“That you’re the Devil,” she stated almost matter-of-factly and then repeated, “What are you talking about?”

His eyes widened, and it would have been comical if her heart wasn’t hammering nervously in her chest because of his freak-out. Lucifer sometimes was like a wild animal—he’d bolt if he felt trapped.

“You… You believe me?” he asked, and she nodded. “For how long?”

Chloe shrugged. “Not long. Just a few days.”

“Days?” he repeated. “And… You’re not freaking out? You still want to be with me? Even though you know I’m the _actual_ Devil?”

“Lucifer,” she said softly, her heart hurting for him. “I’ve told you before, I know you. You may be the Devil, but that’s not who you are to _me_. I don’t see you that way.”

“So you don’t believe I’m evil? Or responsible for all the sins of humanity?” he pressed, determined to make her understand the gravity of who he was.

She chuckled, and took a step toward him. “No,” she said shaking her head to emphasize her words. “I’ve never been religious, and I don’t buy into the crap they say about you. I’m a detective—I rely on evidence. You’ve proven yourself time and again to be a good person, Lucifer. _That’s_ what I believe.”

His lips grew into a tiny, hesitant smile. She could see the gears turning in his head as he processed all that she had said. “Detective,” he whispered, voice dripping with wonder. “I’d like to kiss you, if it is what you desire?”

She hated that he doubted her feelings again, that he felt insecure in where they stood with each other, so she was quick to assure him. “You can kiss me anytime you want, Lucifer. I’m yours, remember?” But then, grinning at him, she amended, “Well, not at work and maybe not in front of Trixie just yet. But any _other_ time.”

His fingers traced her jaw as he tipped her face up to his, kissing her softly. What a freeing feeling it was to be wholeheartedly accepted by the person you cared for most in all of existence.

“I’ve been so scared to tell you, and you’ve known for days,” he laughed at himself. “I should have known you’d take it in stride, Detective. Dr. Linda was right, you’re so strong.”

“Linda knows?” Chloe asked, pulling him into a hug.

Nodding, Lucifer said, “I told her a few weeks ago. It took her some time to come to terms, but she’s handling it well now.”

Chloe’s eyes widened with realization, “When you said you’d broken your therapist?”

“Yes. I followed your advice and showed her who I truly am.”

“My advice?” Chloe repeated. “Oh, after the whole incident with the sniper? You were going through something then. Something big.” She looked up at him puzzling it all together. “Will you tell me why you were so upset?”

Lucifer pulled away from her. “It’s not something I wish to talk about. Not now and not with you, Detective.”

Hurt, she felt tears well up in her eyes. “Why not?”

Lucifer averted his eyes, pained that he was hurting her. “It will change how you see me, Detective. And, selfish as it may be, I’m not ready for that just yet.”

“Okay,” she relented, deciding to give it up for now. She leaned her hip against the edge of the sink. “There are still so many things I don’t know or fully understand. I was so worried today, when you went into the room with the poison gas. I thought you’d be invincible, being the Devil and all, and sometimes it seems like you are—you’ve walked away after being shot without even a scratch—but then other times you get hurt, like when _I_ shot you. What’s the difference?”

He sighed and told her, “You are. I’m only vulnerable when I’m near you.”

Chloe’s mouth dropped open, the final pieces of the puzzle finally settling into place. It all made sense now, how he’d freaked out and avoided her for weeks after he’d told her she made him vulnerable, because she did make him vulnerable. _Literally_.

“Why me?” she asked, shaking her head as she tried to understand.

“I… I don’t know. I don’t fully understand it. But I learned something tonight that might be relevant. It’s what I thought you knew, when I came barging in here earlier. You, Detective, are…” he dragged his eyes back to hers, but then paused. “Oh, you’re bleeding,” he said, rubbing the spot underneath his own nose.

“Huh?” she said, confused at the abrupt change in conversation. She touched under her nose to feel the blood there, and turned toward the mirror to see.

“Here,” he said, handing her some toilet paper.

She blotted at it, but it didn’t stop. She tried tilting her head forward for a few moments and then backward for a few moments, and still nothing staunched the bleeding.

Tears stung her eyes as her heart began to race. Each of the poisoning victims had started out with nosebleeds.

“Lucifer, something is wrong. It won’t stop,” her voice wobbled as a tear slipped down her cheek. She watched as he came to the same conclusion that she had, the realization dawning on his face.

“Could the professor have poisoned you?” he asked, and he sounded terrified. They knew each poison had a unique antidote and with Carlisle dead...

“I don’t know,” she said through her tears. “I tackled him to the ground and we struggled for a bit. Unless…” she lifted her shirt. There, on her side, where the professor had punched her off him, was a bruising puncture mark.

Their eyes met, heavy with worry.

“We need to get you to the hospital,” Lucifer said urgently. She could see the fear in his eyes, hear it in his voice.

But Chloe shook her head. “No, we can’t go to the hospital, Lucifer. Going to the hospital didn’t help any of the other victims. The only thing that’s gonna save my life is finding the antidote. We need to go to the precinct, see if they recovered anything from the professor’s lab.”

“Alright,” Lucifer said. His eyes met hers, and she was surprised to find them wet. Voice breaking, he sounded anguished as he said, “I can’t lose you, Detective.”

She didn’t say anything in response; she didn’t know how to reassure him.

**. . .**

Chloe woke the next morning to the sounds of Dan and Lucifer arguing. The scratchy hospital bedding itched at her skin. She remembered fainting as she and Lucifer had been searching for the antidote; Lucifer must have brought her to the hospital after that.

They were bickering over her, and it was annoying. She was frustrated that Lucifer had brought her here; how could she find the antidote if she was confined to a hospital bed? She trusted Dan and Lucifer to do all that they could—she just felt so powerless; everything seemed to be so out of her control.

Dan went to go wait for Trixie, leaving Chloe alone with Lucifer. He hovered between the door to her room and her bed, looking about ready to bolt.

“I don’t want Trixie to get scared seeing me like this. Do I look okay?” she asked.

“You…” he gave her a bittersweet smile, “You look heaven-sent.”

She smiled back at him, his words causing her heart to stutter in chest, and said softly, “Come here.”

Pulling a chair to her bedside, he sat, taking her hand in his. They stared at each other for a moment, and Chloe could see the worry etched into the lines of his face.

Her free hand came up to trace his cheek and then pulled his face down to meet hers. His lips pressed to hers, his eyelashes fluttering against her skin, his warm hand tangled up with hers; it all comforted her.

She broke the kiss but kept their faces close and whispered, “You’re the Devil. Is there anything you can do?”

“I will do everything in my power to save you, Detective. You have my word.” She could tell that he was worried, but also that he hadn’t given up yet, and that reassured her. She had faith in him.

She pressed her lips to his again, taking comfort in his nearness while she could.

A throat cleared at the door, interrupting them. “Trixie’s here,” Dan said, shooting a curious look between the two of them, “and Lucifer and I should go follow up on your lead.”

Chloe nodded, and Dan opened the door wider to the let their little monkey in.

“Mommy! Are you hurt?” Trixie asked, running over to the bed. She tried to climb up, and Lucifer helped by lifting her. It almost made Chloe laugh, to see the stiff and awkward way he helped the child onto the bed.

“I’m okay, baby,” Chloe said, pulling her daughter close.

Lucifer watched the scene unfold, feeling little pangs of something in his heart. _What would the child do if she lost her mother?_ Dan tapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s go, Lucifer.”

Hours later, Lucifer had gathered Amenadiel, Maze, Charlotte Richards, and Linda in the Detective’s hospital room for a celestial planning session.

“The plan is simple,” he explained. “You kill me, I go down to Hell, interrogate the professor, get the formula, and then you bring me back!”

Everyone stared at him, processing. Lucifer was fired up; he thought that this could actually work— _and_ he thought that it may be the only chance in Hell they had at saving the Detective.

Way out of her depth, Chloe’s eyes flitted from one Celestial Insider to the next. Amenadiel was an angel. Maze, a demon. Linda was the Devil’s therapist. And Charlotte Richards… well, she didn’t yet know how Charlotte fit in with this preternatural group.

“Well, come on! Who’s in?” Lucifer cried, clapping his hands impatiently.

_Was it really that simple_ , Chloe wondered. _Could he just pop down to Hell the way she popped over to the grocery store?_

Charlotte spoke up first, “This is a terrible idea. I absolutely forbid it.”

“I hate to agree with her highness, but she’s right,” Maze chimed in. “You’d be on your own. We both know I can’t go down with you.”

_Her highness?_ Chloe looked at Linda who looked just as out of her depth as Chloe felt.

“Well, I went down and came back once before. It wasn’t a problem,” Lucifer argued.

“That’s because Father brought you back,” Amenadiel rebutted.

“And you didn’t go through any of the doors,” Maze added. “Once you do, you could be trapped forever.”

Lucifer sighed, exasperated. “Well that won’t happen, will it? I’m the Lord of Hell for crying out loud.”

“You _were_ the Lord of Hell,” Charlotte Richards countered, standing up. “You’ve been away quite a long time. You can’t be certain that this will work.”

Lucifer scoffed, frustrated that no one seemed to believe in his plan. Didn’t they understand this was the _only_ way; he had to try. He looked at Chloe, so weak and helpless, lying on the tiny hospital bed and watching them all with wide eyes. They’d only just found each other.

She met his gaze. “Lucifer,” she began softly, shaking her head. “This sounds too dangerous.”

He looked as if she’d slapped him.

Turning to face the only person who hadn’t yet given their input, he asked, “What do you think?”

Linda looked just as overwhelmed as Chloe. “I think that I followed about half of that. Okay,” she took a breath, “wrapping my brain around this—Lucifer, what makes you so sure you’d go to Hell?”

“In case you’ve missed it, Doctor, I’ve been banned from Heaven,” he shot a quick glance at Chloe, feeling as though he was admitting something she didn’t yet know about him. “There’s nowhere else for me to go.”

“And you’re sure there’s no other way to get there? I mean… I mean, _dying?_ ” Linda pressed.

“Well if anyone has a better suggestion,” Lucifer’s patience had already worn thin. Time was of the essence. “By all means, speak up now. Quite frankly I’d prefer to Uber there,” he said, exasperated. “Look, I am doing this with or without you,” he stated, mind made up. “If there is something I can do to save her, I am doing it.”

“Lucifer,” Chloe said softly. Based on the discussion, his plan sounded anything but foolproof.

“Well, I’m sorry,” Charlotte said, heading for the door. “Having spent millennia in that terrible place, I can’t be part of you going back. Not even for a moment.”

Chloe shook her head. She knew now was not the time for questions, but Charlotte had been in Hell?

“Fine!” Lucifer snapped.

Stopping at the door, Charlotte turned back. “Amenadiel? Are you coming?”

Lucifer looked at his brother expectantly, wondering whose side he would choose.

“No, mom, I’m gonna help.”

_Mom?!_ Chloe’s brain short-circuited.

Amenadiel looked at her. “Chloe doesn’t deserve this.”

“This is the craziest plan I’ve ever heard. I’m in,” Maze proclaimed, joining the ranks. She cared for Chloe, too. And the tiny human.

Charlotte tried once more, “Doctor, surely you have some sensible advice.”

“Um, he’s the Devil,” Linda said. “Nothing’s really been sensible since I found that out.” 

Charlotte’s voice shook with anger. “I will not help you get trapped down there. Not for some _insignificant_ human’s life,” she said, shifting her gaze to Chloe. Chloe quickly looked down at her hands as Charlotte stormed out.

With everyone else on board, the details of the plan came together easily. Maze would kill Lucifer, and Linda would bring him back. Amenadiel would ensure that no one remove Chloe from her room as they’d be in the room directly beneath hers and her proximity was needed to make him vulnerable. 

Linda left to check that the room below was available and to pilfer two sets of scrubs for her and Maze, while Maze went to find Dan to see if he’d found all of the ingredients for the antidote. Amenadiel slipped out with the others, giving Lucifer and Chloe a few moments alone.

“Lucifer, is this really a good idea? Charlotte’s right, I’m just a human.” Chloe said, feeling herself become emotional. She didn’t want to die, but how could she ask Lucifer to risk himself for her?

Lucifer sat on the edge of her bed. “I promised you I’d keep you safe, that I’d do everything in my power to find that antidote. Let me do this for you, Chloe. This is our only chance, don’t you see that?”

Chloe just looked at him, eyes large and wet. She didn’t know what other options they had, except to just let her die. Lucifer wouldn’t allow that.

“And you’re not _just_ a human, Detective,” he continued. “You’re important to so many people. Your spawn, Detective Douche, your mother, Ms. Lopez, Maze, and Dr. Linda,” he listed. “And to _me_. You’ve become so important to me—I can’t imagine a world without you in it. It wouldn’t be right.”

She sniffled as a tear rolled down her cheek. Lucifer brushed it away with his thumb. “It’s too much to ask of you,” she insisted. “You don’t belong in Hell, Lucifer, and I hate that I’m the reason you’re about to go back.”

“Darling, I’ve been in Hell for eons; it’s not going back that has me worried,” he shook his head, not sure how to express his emotions to her. “But if you die, you’ll go to Heaven and I’ll never see you again. That scares me more than the idea of spending _millennia_ in Hell, because I’m not ready to let you go; I don’t know if I ever will be.”

This was what he had been dreading since Father Frank had died; her death was unavoidable—she was human, and humans died. He just thought he’d have more time to prepare himself; he wasn’t ready to live in a world where she no longer existed.

She looked at him through glassy eyes, and he leaned in to kiss her softly. “Please, Detective. Let me do this for you. For us. _Please_.”

“I’m scared, Lucifer. I’m scared of dying, but I’m also scared for you. What if you get trapped like Maze said?”

“That won’t happen, Chloe,” he promised, bringing his forehead to hers.

A soft knock at the door interrupted them, and Maze stuck her head in. “We’re ready,” she said.

Chloe began to cry in earnest, and Lucifer chased her tears with his lips. He kissed her, and it felt like goodbye.

“I love you,” she said. If this was the last time they ever saw each other, she needed him to know.

His face crumpled as he stared at her in awe. “Hold on, Detective, until I return. Fight.”

She bit her lip and nodded, and then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments make my day :) 
> 
> I'd love to hear what you thought of this chapter or predictions for the final part!! Also, constructive critique is always welcome :)


	9. A Good Day to Die Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read, leave kudos, bookmark, or comment on this fic--it means so much!
> 
> I hope you enjoy the conclusion to my first lil fic in this fandom! It most certainly won't be my last! :)

Chloe stirred, her eyelids fluttering for a few seconds before they opened completely, squinting against the sunlight shining in through drab gray blinds.

“Well looks who’s back.”

Her heart sped up at the sound of Lucifer’s voice, and she turned to face him, needing to see that he was really there.

“You didn’t die after all, that makes one of us,” he joked, and she had never been so grateful to hear his playful teasing.

“You did it?” she asked, and her voice was hoarse from disuse. She cleared her throat as Lucifer reached for a cup of water on the table and handed it to her. “You went to Hell?”

He nodded once and confirmed, “I did.”

“You saved me,” she whispered, blinking back a wave of emotion and smiling up at him, eyes shimmering.

“Well, much as I’d like to take all the credit; it was a team effort.”

She reached for him, twining her fingers with his. “Thank you,” she said sincerely.

His heart broke a little as he looked at her. She was so beautiful; perfect for him in every way—and now he knew why. She had always reminded him of Heaven, and now he knew that was because she _was_ of Heaven. His Father’s miracle.

She had told him she loved him before he’d gone to Hell, but how could that love be real? She had been placed in his path by his Father; and it was only He who knew His purpose for her, or if her feelings were truly her own.

Lucifer hadn’t allowed himself to think about what her being a miracle meant until after she was safe. When he’d returned to the land of the living, he’d had hours to ruminate on it while Chloe recovered, and he had come to the conclusion that he had no choice, really: he had to leave her. He had to give her her choice back.

It had never made sense to him how she could have feelings for him, how she could want him. She was the epitome of a good person. What made sense was that her feelings were orchestrated by his Father—that they weren’t real.

_I’m yours_ , she had said. But she wasn’t.

“Where’s Trixie?” she asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.

He stood from his chair saying, “I’ll go get her for you.”

The child ran to her mother, climbing clumsily into bed with her. “I was _so_ scared, Mommy. You started shaking real bad, and they said you had a seizure.”

Lucifer watched their interactions from the doorway, knowing he should leave, but finding it difficult to make himself turn away from her.

He knew leaving would hurt her, but she’d get over him quickly enough. She’d find someone worthy of her, a human with whom she could have more children if she wanted; someone to grow old with. Someone to do all the things he’d never be able to. Someone he could never be.

He chanced one last glance at her, wanting to see her beautiful smiling face one last time to sear it into his memories, and then he turned toward the door.

“Are you leaving?” she asked, and he had hoped to sneak out before she noticed.

Clearing his throat he said, “You should rest, Detective, and I thought I’d give you some time with your spawn.”

“Oh,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment. “Okay. We’ll talk later?”

His noncommittal response made her brow furrow with worry.

**. . .**

“Hey, it’s me again. Voicemail 337. Obnoxious, right? But, um, it’s just that you haven’t been picking up or returning my calls, so I’m on my way over. So, hide the strippers. Um… Yeah. I just hope you’re okay. Okay. Bye.”

**. . .**

The penthouse was dark when she entered, sheets covering his piano and some of his other furniture.

She felt something like panic rise up inside her, bile burning the base of her throat as she swallowed it down.

Stepping further into the dwelling, her eyes swept the rest of the apartment, until they landed on him, sitting in one of the chairs that faced his balcony, whisky in hand.

“You’re leaving?” she asked, voice thick with emotion.

His eyes met hers as she continued her slow approach toward him. “I was going to,” he admitted, averting his eyes from hers to stare into his drink. “In the end, I couldn’t go through with it. Selfish as it is,” he chuckled darkly, “I couldn’t leave you.”

“But… why?” she asked, and she sounded so hurt it made his heart ache.

_For this exact reason_ , he wanted to scream at her. He was poison; he’d only keep hurting her. It was all just some huge manipulation, entertainment for his Father. There would be no happy ending for them.

“It’s not real,” he said instead, and he sounded so resigned. “Us.”

Chloe’s eyebrows furrowed as tears stung her eyes. “What?”

He scoffed bitterly, downing the rest of his drink. “You are a _miracle_.” And the way he spat the word, as if it tasted bitter on his tongue, made her heart stutter against her ribs.

“I don’t know what that means, Lucifer,” she said, and she was starting to get angry, starting to feel pissed off at him, because he was running scared and making up reasons that justified hurting her. She’d dreaded this moment from the very beginning with him, because Lucifer feared intimacy and commitment.

“I found out right before you were poisoned, and at first I didn’t really know what it meant. And then you were dying, and all I could think about was saving you. The thought of losing you, of never being able to see you again… It _terrified_ me. But once they told me you were going to be okay, it all started to sink in. I started to understand what it meant,” he rambled.

“Lucifer, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Chloe said, frustrated, as a tear fell down her cheek. “You’re not making sense.”

“My Father put you here, Detective!” he roared.

She jumped at his sudden exclamation, startled by the unexpected show of emotion. Abruptly, he stood from the chair and stalked over to the bar, his movements jittery and hasty, as though his feelings were too much for him to keep contained and were escaping through his limbs like convicts during a jailbreak.

He grabbed the half-empty bottle of scotch from the bar and poured a generous amount into his glass, hands shaking noticeably. He set the bottle back on the bar, and she thought he had calmed himself, but then he brought his hand down forcefully on the bar top with a loud _smack!_

Looking up at her with eyes that had given up, he explained, “Your parents were unable to conceive,” and his voice was eerily calm now. “My Father sent Amenadiel to lay a blessing upon your mother—nine months later, a miracle was born. _You_.”

Chloe stood silently as she watched him, trying to process what he was telling her, trying to understand how that could be true; what it meant for her, for _them_.

Taking in her contemplative silence, Lucifer offered, “Drink?” while holding up the bottle.

Now that it was all out in the open, his emotions seemed to have leveled off. He now waited to see how she would react, hear what she would say.

“Okay…” Chloe finally ventured, taking a few small steps toward him. “So you’re saying God had a hand in my creation?” Lucifer nodded solemnly. “Okay, well that’s a strange thing to have to process, I guess, but… I don’t see how that has anything to do with _us_ , Lucifer.”

Didn’t most religious people credit God for their existence anyway? Chloe had never been religious, so the whole idea that God even existed was a strange thing for her to fully grasp—it was hard to give much weight to it, seeing as how it had never really mattered much to her in the past.

“Don’t you see, Detective? He put you in my path!” He set his glass on the bar as she continued to take hesitant steps toward him. His face fell, and she could see the pain in his eyes as he said, “Your feelings for me aren’t real. My Father orchestrated it all—your birth, our meeting, and _yes_ , your feelings. It’s all a bloody manipulation.”

She reached him, stepping into his space, but he refused to look at her. Now that she knew, she’d reject him, and even though he knew it had never been real, it would still break him.

“No,” she said, voice firm and strong, taking him by surprise. He met her eyes, confused. “I don’t believe that,” she asserted, her hand coming up to rest on his cheek. He pressed himself into her touch, indulgent and needy.

Even still, he frowned. “Didn’t you hear what I said, Detective?”

“I did,” Chloe confirmed, caressing his face. “And like you love to remind me, I’m a detective. I need direct evidence—and everything you’ve said is circumstantial at best.”

He looked at her, completely and utterly astonished by her faith in them, by the way her mind worked.

She continued, “All you know is that your father orchestrated my existence—you have no evidence that it was so that we’d one day meet. You believe my feelings aren’t real just for the pure coincidence that we exist in the same time and place.”

“Why else would he ensure your existence at this exact point in time, when he knew I’d be retiring from Hell? Why else would you be the only human immune to my charms; the only person who makes me vulnerable?” Lucifer pressed, but he hoped she’d have an explanation for those questions as well, that she’d convince him he was wrong—because he really wanted to be wrong about this.

She sucked in a breath, her eyes widening. “I’m immune to your charms, Lucifer!” she exclaimed. “That’s the key. Think about it, everyone falls all over themselves to be with you _because_ of your charms. You tap into their desires, and that’s all they feel with you—that’s why everyone we interviewed said sex with you was amazing, but meaningless.” He huffed at that, not enjoying the reminder, but she pressed on, excited, “I’ve never felt like that with you. Sure, I’ve always found you attractive, but I didn’t even really like you when we first met.”

“You found me repulsive on a chemical level,” he repeated her words from long ago.

She hummed, not wanting to tell him that she hadn’t, not really, because she needed this argument to get through to him. “My feelings for you developed over time, a slow burn as I got to know you. I think me being immune to your charms is what allowed that to happen, to get to know the real you and develop _real_ feelings for you.” His eyes were wet as they held hers. “I know my feelings for you are real, Lucifer, because I know exactly who you are, and I know exactly _why_ I feel the things I do for you.”

He tugged her gently into him, pressing his lips to hers and tasting the saltiness of tears she hadn’t known she’d cried. His tongue dipped between her lips, almost tentatively but undeniably reverent. He cared for her more than he’d cared for anyone else in his long life; she’d become the most important person to him, a light so bright she reminded him of the first time he had glimpsed his stars.

“How can we know for sure that this is real?” he whispered softly against her lips.

“I don’t know if we can,” she replied just as soft. “But I know that being with you makes me happy,” and she smiled, tracing his bottom lip with her finger. “You make me happy, Lucifer.”

“You make me feel as though I’m enough,” he told her, kissing the tip of her finger. “Just me, without the favors or my charms.”

“You are enough,” she affirmed, kissing him tenderly. Kissing him felt so perfect, so right, and if it was predestined by his Father for them to meet and fall in love, Chloe couldn’t care less, but she’d spend her whole life convincing Lucifer that her feelings for him were real if that’s what he needed from her.

She ended the kiss with two small pecks to his lips, and then pressed her forehead to his.

“I want so badly to believe it.”

“Then do, Lucifer. Believe in me, in _us_ ,” she pleaded softly, rubbing her nose against his.

He nodded against her forehead, closing his eyes.

“Are we good?” she ventured after a few quiet moments. “You’re not going to up and leave without a word?”

“We’re good, Detective. I’m not going to leave.”

“Good,” she said, pulling out of his embrace. “I came here straight from the hospital, and I could really use a shower. I feel gross.”

“You look beautiful as ever, darling. But of course, you know where it is,” he said and gestured toward his room. “Help yourself to anything you desire.”

“And if I desire you?” she asked suggestively, her arms winding around his waist, her face tipping up to look at him with a sultry smile.

His eyes darkened as he gazed down at her pretty face, eyes darting over those sea-blue eyes, her pouty, plump lips, and the gentle curve of her nose. “You already have me,” he whispered.

She slipped her fingers in between his and held his gaze as she walked backwards toward his room, tugging him with her.

She wanted to show him just how much he meant to her, just how much she loved him, even though she was afraid to say the words aloud again. If the evening had proven anything, it was that Lucifer was still as impulsive and prone to flee as he had always been. Things still seemed fragile between them, and subconsciously, she had decided to tread carefully for now. Relationships were all about give and take, after all; about meeting each other halfway.

After they had both undressed, Lucifer pulled Chloe close. “How are you feeling, darling? I forgot to ask,” he said, and his thumbs traced the arches of each of her eyebrows and then rubbed soft circles into her temples.

She gripped his hips to steady herself under his doting ministrations and hummed as her eyelids fluttered closed. “So much better.”

He tipped her chin up to kiss her softly, and then said, “Why don’t I draw us a bath instead? You deserve to relax after today.”

“Okay,” she agreed with an appreciative smile.

Chloe twisted her hair up into a messy bun as she watched Lucifer run the bath, mixing oils and bubble bath into the warm water and lighting a few candles, which he placed around the bathroom vanity. After dimming the overhead lights, he helped her step into the warm water and then climbed in behind her.

They settled against each other, Chloe’s back to Lucifer’s chest, his legs cradling her thighs. She hummed, _so_ content, and let her head roll back onto his shoulder as his arms snaked around her middle. His lips found her neck, and he pressed soft, affectionate kisses to the sensitive skin there.

“This’s nice,” she mumbled, letting the heat from the water and Lucifer’s body seep into her bones. She’d been so cold when she’d been poisoned, not able to find warmth under the thin hospital blankets.

Lucifer nuzzled his nose into the spot behind her ear and rumbled his agreement. His fingers traced tiny patterns on her belly, the bath oils making her skin feel soft and silky under his touch, while her hands rested lightly on his forearms, holding him to her.

“Was it awful?” she finally got up the courage to ask, the warmth of the bath combined with the comforting scents of lavender and vanilla calming her to the point where her inhibitions lowered. “Going back to Hell?”

“Yes,” he answered gruffly. He wasn’t one to lie in order to spare someone’s feelings, and it hurt her heart to think of what he must have gone through because of her. “But it was worth it.”

Gently turning her head toward his, he kissed her softly, and she felt his relief in the way his lips moved against hers, the way he sucked on her bottom lip, the way his tongue dipped inside her mouth to taste her.

They pulled away from each other, but she kept their foreheads close, kept her eyes closed as she breathed him in for a moment longer, savoring the tender moment.

He had done the unimaginable for her; died and went to Hell all in order to save her life—it was overwhelming, and she couldn’t for the life of her understand how after all that, he could think the feelings between them weren’t real.

“This is _real_ ,” she repeated the words hoping to get through to him.

He sucked in a breath, his stomach flipping unexpectedly at her words, and he swallowed down some emotion he didn’t recognize. His eyes flitted between hers, searching for the truth in them.

Taking a deep breath, he nervously averted his eyes and asked, “Did you mean what you said? In the hospital, before I went to Hell?”

“Yes,” she whispered back, knowing her voice trembled as she felt herself get emotional again. She pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of nose.

“How do you know?” he asked, and he sounded so curious and innocent that she was reminded that he’d spent much of his long life alone, without any kind of positive or loving relationships, except maybe for Maze.

Chloe settled back against his chest, her neck starting to hurt. “It’s a lot of little things,” she tried to explain. “Things about you and who you are; like your sense of humor, and how kind you are, and honest, and loyal. Even things that used to annoy me about you, like how your mind is always in the gutter,” he chuckled at that, “are things that I wouldn’t want to change about you, because they make you who you are. And… I really like the person that you are.”

“Oh,” he said, and she could tell he was considering her words.

“But not just that,” she continued. “It’s also the way you make me feel. When I’m with you, I just feel so happy. You make me feel important and special; you believe in me—you see my best attributes and accept my worst. I feel so comfortable around you, like I can be who I truly am with you, without any fear that you’ll judge me. And when we’re not together, my heart aches for you. When we _are_ together, I feel… whole. Complete.”

She felt him breathe a shaky sigh against her neck, and then his fingers found her cheek, and he turned her head to face him once more.

“That’s what love feels like?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she breathed, her eyes darting down to his soft lips. “It is.”

His eyes met and held hers as a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Then,” he said, nudging her nose with his, “I love you, too, Detective. I have for quite some time.”

A small, elated laugh bubbled up inside her chest, escaping her lips, and her smile matched his as she kissed him softly. With glistening eyes, she whispered back, “I love you, Lucifer.”

He kissed her so lovingly that her tears slipped out and tracked down her cheeks. She turned in the tub, lukewarm water sloshing about as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing closer to him.

When they pulled away, he looked at her with such awe and amazement—the way he always looked at her—and she knew she would never grow tired of that look.

He held her as she fitted her face into his neck, now curled across his lap in the quickly chilling bath water.

He reached for a plush loofah, squirting body wash onto it. “Darling, let me wash you and then we’ll get out.”

She nodded into his neck, and her fingernails scratched his scalp at the base of his skull. He dragged the loofah down her body, across her shoulders and chest, down her taut belly, ghosting over the triangle between her thighs, and down both legs. Then, he shifted her off his lap so that he could wash her back.

She shivered, and he helped her stand. “Why don’t we rinse under the shower?” he suggested, pulling the drain on the tub.

They rinsed the suds off under the warm water of the shower. Rivulets of water cascaded down Chloe’s face and body, leaving wet trails on silky skin that Lucifer wished to follow with his lips and tongue.

“Let’s get you warmed up,” he said, helping her out of the shower.

She stood facing him, goosebumps dotting her skin, as he reached for one of his huge, luxurious towels and then wrapped it around her shoulders.

They dried themselves and each other, giggling the whole time and sneaking little affectionate touches where they could. Chloe’s heart bubbled with joy, reassured that she had gotten through to him, that things would be okay between them. _He loved her._ And while she had known he had feelings for her, while she had suspected he loved her, too, it was an entirely different thing to hear him say it.

She pulled him close to her, feeling his desire for her against her stomach, hot and hard. Letting her towel fall to the floor, she took his hand and led him into his room.

When they reached his bed, she pushed gently on his chest until he sat on the edge of the mattress. She dropped down onto her knees in front of him, and he groaned when her hand found the base of his cock.

“Chloe,” he gasped. She looked gorgeous, naked and still a little damp, as she looked up at him through her long, dark lashes. He throbbed for her, his dick stretching in her direction, begging to be touched, twitching with anticipation. Not one to disappoint, she began to work his length with her hand, stroking him and up and down.

She pressed a kiss to the tip of his erection and then licked it with the flat of her tongue, collecting the salty fluid that had beaded there. She swirled her tongue, still just around the tip, and then wrapped her lips around the head of his penis.

Lucifer groaned, his head rolling back as his fingers gripped the edge of the mattress. She licked him from base to tip, smiling against his length as she did so, and he watched her, his own smile stretching his cheeks. She giggled, meeting his eyes, and playfully kissed along his shaft. All he could think was _she is_ _luminous_.

Taking him into her mouth, she bobbed her head up and down on him, her hand pumping his base to the same rhythm. She rolled his balls in her palm, and then stretched her fingers behind them to tease at the sensitive stretch of skin hidden there.

He moaned loudly, wanton and shameless, his hips jutting forward and thrusting into her mouth involuntarily.

Forcing his eyes open, he watched as she bobbed her head along his length, taking him in as far as she could. His eyes skimmed down her long, sinewy back, pausing at the two perfect dimples above her ass, and then further down to her perfectly round bottom.

Chloe moved on his shaft, hollowing her cheeks, and it felt amazing. His hands found the back of her head, holding her gently in place as he rocked his hips into her, small little thrusts as he began to lose control.

Lovely sounds of pleasure escaped his lips, and made hot arousal pulse in waves of liquid heat straight to Chloe’s center.

Her eyes met his through hooded lids, and she watched, enraptured, as she brought him closer to euphoria, his mouth falling open, his tongue darting out to lick at his lower lip, his eyelids fluttering open to meet her gaze as he watched himself disappear between her perfect pink lips.

Eyes firmly on his, she increased her pace, setting a nice rhythm she knew would tip him over the edge.

“Chloe! Chloe! I’m going to come,” he gasped, his hips thrusting more insistently into her mouth, even as his hands tugged at her biceps, attempting to pull her off him.

She hummed around him, the vibrations only adding to his pleasure, and he exploded into her mouth, his release spurting into her mouth and down her throat. He cried out as she worked him gently through it.

Then, Lucifer reached for her, pulling her onto his lap. She licked her lips, smiling as she tasted his salty essence on them.

“You are incredible,” he murmured, pulling her lazily into his chest and wrapping her legs around his waist. She loved how he always wanted her close after they were intimate. Who would guess that the _Devil_ was a cuddler?

Chloe wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body into his and burying her face in the space between his neck and shoulder, peppering kisses there.

“I love you,” she whispered against his skin, and then pulled her head back to look at him.

His thumbs traced her jawline, tilting her head toward his, so that he could lean forward and press soft kisses to her full lips. Her fingers wrapped lightly around his neck, thumb pressing gently into his Adam’s apple, it bobbing as he swallowed when her other hand trailed down his chest to tease at his nipple.

His kisses intensified, his tongue plunging into her mouth and licking insistently at hers. She kissed his top lip and he kissed her bottom, not able to help himself from sinking his teeth into the soft flesh and tugging on it gently.

Moaning, her other hand joined the one on his neck and she tilted his head up to hers, his cock already stiffening, hard and long, between their bodies.

“Lucifer,” she gasped as he pulled her core flush against his hard cock. She ground against him, her pussy wet and aching for him to fill her. With his hands on her lower back, he helped her roll her hips against him, her slick heat allowing for the most perfect friction against her clit.

“Mmmm,” she moaned, biting down hard on her lower lip as her head fell back, her chin tipping against his nose as she still cradled his head in her hands. He pressed a tiny kiss to the underside of her chin, continuing to rock her hips against his length, her hot arousal coating his erection. She shifted her hips desperately against him, alternating little sounds of pleasure and frustration.

Chuckling against her throat, he murmured smugly, “I love driving you wild with desire.”

He pulled his head back to look at her face, and her stormy blue eyes, half-lidded, gazed into his. Her hips still shifting restlessly against his, she brought her hands to his cheeks and pulled him toward her for a passionate kiss.

“Please, Lucifer,” she gasped against his lips when she broke the kiss.

He lifted her hips, positioning himself at her entrance, and she bucked against him. Sliding her onto his straining cock in one swift motion, he buried himself to the hilt inside her warm, wet heat.

The sensation had her crying out against his lips, and tears stung her eyes at how perfect he fit inside her, stretching her in the most satisfying way. She couldn’t help but to remember the first time they’d been intimate with one another, weeks ago at his piano after Father Frank’s death. The position so similar to how they were now, yet so much had changed between them since that night.

He froze, his thumb wiping at a tear that had slipped down her cheek. “Chloe? What’s wrong, darling?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head, more tears escaping, and she chuckled. “These are happy tears, I promise.”

He kissed her tenderly, and she thrust her hips against him, ready to feel him move inside her. He pressed a hand to the small of her back, the other finding the roundness of her ass, and he moved her against him, meeting her movements with his own, making love to her.

They kept their faces pressed together, kept their eyes on each other, breathing the same air, moaning into the same space, pressing open-mouthed kisses to cheeks and noses and chins.

She cried his name as he brought her closer to the edge, and she felt the pleasure spread throughout her body, starting as a hot coil deep her belly and expanding out to the very tips of her fingers and toes. She came, her whole body a tingly mess, clenching tightly around his cock and panting _I love you, I love you_ , over and over again in his ear, triggering his own climax.

Shuddering, he pulled out of her, and rolled them onto the bed. They curled around one another, underneath silky sheets, lying nose to nose. She kissed him softly as he curled tendrils of hair that had escaped her messy bun around his fingers. She felt sleepy and sated and her eyelids began to flutter, growing heavy.

“Lucifer,” she whispered sleepily.

“Hmmm?” was his matching sleepy reply.

“Will you ever show me what you showed Linda to prove to her you’re the Devil? Will you ever tell me what happed all those weeks ago that made you so upset?”

She felt him stiffen next to her, and her eyes popped open, worried that she had gone too far. But after a moment, his arm slipped under hers and around her waist, tugging her closer to him. She pressed her face into his chest, kissing the spot directly above his heart.

“I showed Dr. Linda my Devil face, and it was a mistake,” he said softly. “She was terrified, and rightfully so—you see, that face is a punishment, and you, my darling, have done nothing to deserve such a thing,” his fingers drew patterns on her skin. “And as for what happened all those weeks ago, well perhaps one day I’ll tell you, after I’ve worked through it completely with the Doctor. I did something… something I don’t regret, not anymore, but something that made me feel like a monster; something I think I’ll always feel ashamed of.”

“I think,” Chloe murmured softly against his chest, “one day, when you’re ready, I’d like to see your Devil face. I love you, Lucifer, and I want to know every part of you; angel _and_ Devil.”

He tilted his head as he looked at her, awestruck. She never failed to astonish him with her bravery and now, her love for him. “You truly are a miracle, Detective,” he said, and she was glad he was already able to speak about it so glibly. It just made her all the more confident that she had gotten through to him earlier, had convinced him that what they had was real.

“And I’m here,” she said seriously, “when you’re ready to talk about what happened. Nothing you say can change how I feel about you, Lucifer. Whatever you did that you’re ashamed of, I know you must have had a good reason for it, because I know you.”

“There was a good reason for it, yes. The very best reason, actually,” he confirmed as he pulled her tighter against him. How could he regret doing something that had saved her life?

He’d tell her one day, and he was surprised by how much he _wanted_ to. He loved her, and he wanted her to know everything about him, just as he wished to know everything about her. Dr. Linda had once told him that letting someone see your true self is a scary thing, but it is necessary for a relationship to work. He wanted Chloe to see all of him.

She yawned against his chest, and he threaded his fingers into her hair, massaging her scalp underneath the loose bun.

“Mmm,” she hummed against him. “Feels nice.”

“You should sleep, Detective,” he said softly, pressing his lips to her forehead.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” Her eyes had already closed, but she needed to hear his reassurance.

“Yes, darling, I’ll be here. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this little story, please make my day by telling me in a comment below! :)


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